Storm Clouds Gathering
by Veii
Summary: Sometimes it takes the darkest, most broken of hearts to humble the heavens... (CHAPTER 1 REWRITE DONE)
1. Prologue - Breathe

Breathe in. Breathe in deep.

Focus on the intake of air. Feel the rush of the cold. The musty air surrounds as you breathe in through your nostrils. It hurts a bit. Better to breathe in through your mouth. The pain makes you strong.

Breathe in. Now hold.

It hurts more. The pain is good. Your body craves the oxygen. Yearns for it, desires, hungers, starves for. Intense focus like this makes you forget to breathe. Emotions and distractions make you forget.

Hold the breath. Now… slowly exhale. Let the pain seep through your bones.

The air escapes your mouth. Seeps outwards, as if your body is desperate not to let it go. Doesn't want to let go. It's desperate for it like a rat desperate for a crumb of food. This is what happens when you let distractions get the best of you. Why do you distract yourself with them? They can't help you. All that is important is the aspect of survival. Instinct. Raw unbridled primitive emotion. Primitive energy, born from rage at the threat of losing your life. Only you can protect yourself. You don't need anyone.

They can't help you.

They can't help you.

They can't help you.

No one can.

No one ever.

Forget them.

You're nothing.

They're nothing.

 _Breathe in, and focus._

Stop it.

 _Hold the breath, and focus._

Why do you try?

 _Exhale, and spread your awareness outwards._

You might as well never take a breathe.

 _Focus on your surroundings._

Who cares. You're a waste of space.

 _Let the energy around you fill you up._

The energy you can't even fully control. Laughable.

 _Remember their faces._

What?

 _Remember._

...

 _Remember those who support you._

…

 _Remember._

I told you they don't matter.

 _Remember._

Shut up.

 _Remember their eyes._

Stop!

 _Remember their expressions, their faces, their voices._

STOP.

 _Remember their_ _ **smiles**_ _._

…

…

 _… Veigar?_

* * *

He awoke at the mention of his name.

Looking around the room, curious, cautious, and alert. He didn't know what to expect. He honestly never knew what to expect. Maybe one day he'd wake up to someone holding a knife over his bedside, ready to free him from this mortal realm called Runeterra. That wouldn't be a surprise. But it wouldn't work, probably.

Veigar wrote it off as another dream. A bit odd at that, though. His "dreams" were usually nightmares. He could never really sleep at night in peace. Hell if he was ever able to sleep at all.

He recalled where he was for the time being. Veigar had left the safety of his accursed home and ventured towards Bandle City. He was in an inn room, probably one of the most dinky and ragged rooms he had laid eyes upon. Actually, scratched that last statement, this wasn't the worst room he had slept in. Not even a room in hell could compare to the old Noxian jail cell. Or was that hell incarnate?

Nevermind that. He was here for a reason. Veigar dressed up, collected his belongings, and nearly splintered open the fragile wooden door and into the hallway, venturing outside.

He was not directly in Bandle City. This was the outskirts. Mostly the poor and unfortunate lived on the outside of the yordle utopia. Peasants, really. They were insignificant to him. At the very least, they didn't send the Bandle Gunners at the first sight of the dark mage. They wouldn't dare anger someone like him, a practitioner of the dark sorceries. He could lift his hand and call down volatile matter from the cosmos to destroy their pathetic town. Only, he didn't because he thought it would be a waste of energy.

No, he was here for a reason. Veigar lived isolated from the rest of the world. He made a home for himself in the dense parts of the forest surrounding Bandle City. Only he could reach it easily, and it was nigh impossible to accidentally stumble upon it's doorstep. But, for all the magic of his world, and sinister potions he could create using the twisted resources surrounding the cursed land of his home, he needed fresh supplies every now and then. Mages can't just summon energy out of thin air. Well, supposedly you could, but that takes energy to make energy, so you kind of end up losing energy attempting to solidify it into solid matter that you can shove into your starving maw. Magic is complex, but it has its limits, too.

Since he didn't have to fear any guards from Bandle City attempting to drive him away (as he was quite the wanted criminal), he could venture into the little towns in the outskirts and shop for supplies here and there. Yes, shop, instead of steal, because it is a bit too easy for him to acquire the gold needed. Alchemy is yet another branch of magic that he had perfected simply to appease the minds of those less advanced of his race. He looked down upon those who felt greed for little sparkling pieces of gold.

As he walked out of the dinky inn, he noted the sky. Overcast. Chilly. He could sense something coming again. A storm. Storm clouds…

It was an oddity he'd have to examine later. The abnormal weather sure was beating upon the world. He didn't pay much attention outside of Yordle land, barely venturing out past the Sablestone Mountain range that separates Bandle City from the rest of the world. He didn't yet have much reason to after the… incident of his past.

No matter. The townsfolk of these outskirts are going to take a hit to their crop harvest. While some rain is good, these storms are violent. He needed not to loiter too long. Then again, for some reason the overcast dark clouds brought him some sort of strange peace of mind.

With his hat drawn over his head, casting an impenetrable dark shroud over his face that no eye could see through but his own, bright yellow eyes, he advanced towards his destination. And indeed, his eyes could pierce through any darkness, no matter how thick its shroud. It probably made it difficult to start a conversation with him, too.

Veigar trudged away from the inn, through the town towards his destination. He knew of a shopkeeper who sold the best stocks of previous harvests, albeit at some immoral prices that made the townsfolk dislike them. Nonetheless, his stock was unmatched, and Veigar was not strained with money.

He passed by many other yordles. Some rugged farmers. Others frail older females. Kids were seen here and there trying to play by chasing one another, only to be scared off by wandering a bit too close to the dark mage, who growled irritably at their childishness. Some of the townsfolk realized who it was that wandered in their midst. Those who didn't recognize him still felt chilled by the aura that surrounded him that was his mere presence.

It didn't take long to find the shop. The building was made out of more concrete structure rather than the frail woodworks of the other buildings. Probably a result of the shopkeepers unusual wealth in comparison to the bad economy of the town. A window resided beside a locked door, with a gruff looking yordle with a beard positioned at the opening. Behind him lay all of his stock, from fresh harvested vegetables and fruit, to odds and ends like traveling cloaks and umbrellas, most likely stocked in preparation for the upcoming storm. Veigar knew what he wanted, though.

The shopkeeper had finished up sending a crying yordle child away, whom was probably begging for scraps of food for his family, judging from his moth-eaten clothes and lack of shoes. The dark mage smirked ironically at the despicability and scum of some others in the world. As the shopkeeper went to wipe a glass clean of a stain, Veigar strided up to the window, sneaking up on the unaware old yordle.

Not being noticed immediately, the shopkeeper continued to wipe the stain with a dirty cloth, somehow making the glass even more dirty and grimy. The mage waited for 15 awkward seconds before he gave a harsh cough.

The bearded yordle looked up from his pointless task. "Eh, wha' in the bloody hells do you want?", he crudely blurted, raising his voice at the new arrival.

Veigar gave him a cold, yellow-eyed stare. The shopkeeper, as despicable as he was, suddenly realized who he was talking to.

"...Oh. You again." The old yordle turned up a scowl on his face.

Veigar knew the shopkeeper disliked him with every fiber of his being. But he wouldn't dare disrespect him, because Veigar threatened to bring the void down upon his shop if he didn't give him what he wanted.

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind providing me your services once more. It would be a shame to see anything happen to your precious business", the sorcerer stated with dignity and sarcasm, his voice on the slightly higher pitched side.

The old yordle still scowled. But he still had a sense of self preservation. "I suppose that means the usual for you, then. Bread? Potatoes? I'll have you know, however, that I am out of snowberries. They seem to have gone out of season."

"That is a shame", Veigar replied, "but that will do. Along with all the herbs you know I like. How about a traveling cloak, too?"

The shopkeeper gruntled as he stepped away from the window to gather up the requested supplies. Muttering curses under his breathe as he began putting food and supplies in a large bag made out of patched cotton.

"If you don't mind me asking", the gruff old yordle suddenly started, "why do you even bother coming here?"

Veigar had been absent mindedly looking around, drawn away from his thoughts again as he realized the shopkeeper was speaking to him. He doesn't usually talk with the mage.

"Why exactly do you care what I do? And how is that your business?", Veigar snapped back.

Despite the reply, the shopkeeper laughed hoarsely. "Haven't you looked up at the sky every once in awhile?"

"Yes…?" Veigar looked uninterested.

More laughter from the shopkeeper. "It's the freakin' end times, my dark little friend."

Dangerous rage hormones from Veigar. "Don't call me little ever again."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever… but my point still stands. Times a changin'. Perhaps your edgy darkness is spreading outwards or something. Haven't you seen the townsfolk, too? The harvests aren't doing good. The constant rain is bad for the crops. Farm animals are getting scared and escaping, and being found dead in the forest. This town has resorted to having to receive supplies from the Bandle City Gunners of all things, because these poor peasants can't afford anything from me!"

"I wonder why…", Veigar scoffed.

The shopkeeper smiled back, unsympathetic. "My point is, even for my perspective of the pitiful world, stuffs not lookin' so hot. Why do you bother coming here? Hell, why do you even bother paying gold for it?" He chuckled more to himself, coughing a bit as he gathered a pouch full of collected herbs and shoving it clumsily into the bag.

Veigar ignored the question. "I could not pay you, if that suits your fancy."

The gruff yordle shut up, becoming more pissed off at every word the dark mage uttered. He grabbed one of the fine, brown cloaks that looked resilient to the harsh weather that was to come. Veigar could probably just cast a spell that wards off the rain, but he didn't really know why he needed a cloak.

Once everything was pulled up to the counter in the window, Veigar plopped a weighty bag of gold the size of his hand and a little bigger beside it. The shopkeeper took it without a word, feeling it in his hands once the dark mage grabbed the big bag of supplies and slung it over his shoulder, turning away from the shop without a word.

"Nice conversation. Uh-huh." The old yordle sat in his chair and reached behind the counter to grab a drink.

Veigar trotted through the town once more, this time with the bag of supplies that slowed him down just a bit. He had gotten a bit more than he usually did this time. The temptation to just teleport back home once again crossed his mind, but he told himself no once more. For once in his life, he wanted to just travel on foot. He didn't know why. Maybe it was an old curiosity of the world that enticed him so…

The mage began to pay more attention to his surroundings. The shopkeepers words rang in his mind. While he appeared to be ignoring them, the shopkeeper never really spoke to him about anything. The things he said… the surrounding events. The incoming storm. Was some force afoot? Magic was a mysterious, complex thing. Bending reality, destroying or creating. He wondered if he should look into it.

He looked at the other yordles he walked past. The closer he got to the edge of town, the more he noticed the abandoned, pitiful looking houses. Less children were playing, and moreso were sitting at the side of the road, begging for food or money from anyone passing by. Veigar made sure to keep his distance. A part of him was disgusted at the state of this town, and moreso at people who were too weak to stand on their own two feet and make something out of their life, rather than beg pathetically for scraps.

He noticed some commotion nearby. A scuffle. Some adult yordle was wrestling with a youngling. Veigar didn't know what had transpired. Probably some misunderstanding. He intended to walk past, but the natural order of things seemed intent on letting something else happen entirely.

The kid suddenly managed to break free from his assailant by kicking the older yordle in the face, bloodying his nose. The youngling scrambled across the dirt ground, fleeing blindly towards Veigar.

The bloody-nosed yordle screamed. "STOP THAT RODENT! HE STOLE MONEY FROM ME, I TELL YA!"

Veigar stopped dead in his tracks, as the kid crashed right into the mage and bounced right off, landing on his rear. The young yordle had tears streaming down his wet furred cheeks, as he gazed up, not really realizing who Veigar was at the time. He stared up in awe at the mage, noticing his dark robes and pointed hat, confused at how there was not a face under that hat, but a shroud of pure black, with two yellow stars staring right down at him.

The youngling didn't know whether to be scared of the mage or of the assailant who was limping towards them.

Veigar absentmindedly glanced between the kid on the ground before him and the disgusting looking attacker, who was trying to wipe away the blood from his nose. He too stopped in his tracks when he noticed the dark mage standing there.

The assailant looked pissed for no particular reason other than to be pissed that Veigar was there. "Look man, this kid right there? He swiped my money. Little kids on the road are good for nothing these days."

Veigar looked uninterested in the whole situation. He glanced back down at the kid, who had a desperate look in his eyes. Hardly the look of a thief. Or, if it really was, he wasn't a very dedicated thief. Probably barely 4-5 years old.

The bully, as he probably was, spoke again. "What business you got here, eh? Just walk back where you came."

"People like you are the reason your town is suffering."

The bully looked surprised. The kid did too. The other bystanders stopped making any noises.

Even Veigar wondered at those words, when he realized they came out of his own mouth. Something in his emotions was suddenly set off, and not in the mood for this.

"What the hell are you talking-"

"You're in my way. Move."

Veigar had somehow briskly walked past the kid on the ground and brutally bumped into the bully, knocking him to the side and face planting into the dirt, causing him to grunt out in pain as his nose probably didn't appreciate the blood and the dirt mixing up like that. Everyone else was dead silent as Veigar calmly walked on like nothing had happened.

"What the… hey you're gonna PAY FOR THAT!", the bully quickly got back up.

Veigar didn't have time for this. He didn't feel very good right now. Something within him was boiling. This guy wasn't worth his time of day.

At least he wasn't, until Veigar heard the unsheathing of a knife.

He quickly turned. Abnormal reflexes allowed him to grab the protruding knife that was aimed at his back with his gauntleted hand. The knife easily shattered, along with the sound of the bully's hand cracking as bones were suddenly threatened to be crushed between darkened steel.

The bully cried out in agony. He began to whimper and fall to his knees in protest as Veigar's gauntlet gripped tight. Veigar was not happy. Oh boy was he not happy. There was some sort of anger seething through him. Though this wasn't his usual kind of anger. This was something he wasn't used to, something he couldn't define. Oh how he so desperately wanted to unleash it.

He looked down upon the bully. His yellow stare gazed into the pathetic bully's eyes. Veigar was feeling violent. He was feeling a sort of darkness sprouting up within him. It was just like before. Just let it all out and end the suffering of another in this mortal realm. Just one spell…

"Mister? Please don't hurt us."

 _A crack in his mind._

Veigar stopped very suddenly. His awareness dropped to an alarming rate. His world suddenly shone a bit too brightly. He squinted.

" _Please don't hurt us."_

He stood there for a moment. Or what actually ended up being about a minute. He looked again at the bully. The poor guy had passed out from the shock. Veigar hadn't even broken his hand yet. The kid was still there on the ground. The bystanders were watching the mage's every move, examining him. Judging him. Fearing him.

Veigar slumped the bag he still held over his shoulder, adjusting it. He walked over to the side of the dirt road, dragging the unconscious bully along with and dropping him unceremoniously on the ground. He had lost interest. Actually, Veigar had felt disgusted by something he couldn't understand at that very moment. He didn't care anymore.

He started to leave the scene. He passed by the youngling, who hadn't moved from the spot where he fell, for fear of something happened to him. Veigar stopped for a few seconds once again, and gazed over at the young yordle, who gasped frightened.

The bag made a sound as it plopped onto the ground, sending a little bit of dust around. The kid started to stammer until Veigar reached into his bag of supplies and took out a loaf of bread wrapped up in herbal leaves. He half heartedly tossed the bread towards the youngling, who caught it on his lap.

Bewildered, the kid looked back up at Veigar, whom was already walking the other way, headed towards the road out of town. He walked further and further away.

"W-Wait…", the young yordle stammered.

Veigar paid no attention.

The bystanders looked on in equal confusion, as the yordling stood up shaking on his two legs with bread in his arms, calling after the dark mage.

"Who are you?", he called out.

At that moment, not even Veigar himself knew the answer.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yeah. I'm not dead. But believe me when I say I am feeling incredibly guilty. Seems like I never really had a real chance to actually devote myself to writing. I don't even know if I've lost my charm or not. But at this point, I think I owe this story something more, and I intend to give it what I originally wanted.**

 **You are probably wondering about the positioning of this "Prologue". I have big plans, actually. See, after the last chapter I uploaded, I hit a snag. I knew how I wanted to end this story. I sort of had an idea of where I wanted to go next. But the transition I was never satisfied with. I tried writing it out, then became dissatisfied with it, and scrapped it, starting over. This happened several times.**

 **Trust me when I say every time I read a new review, my heart was touched. Touched, and at the same time, ridden with more guilt. Even though I wrote this out as something I wanted to simply try out as a side hobby, all of you actually enjoyed this little story of mine. So I know what I want to do.**

 **The plan is rather simple. I intend to actually go through each chapter, and sort of rewrite it. The story may more or less stay the same, with some things being removed and others being expanded upon. You can let me know what you think of this through PMing me, or giving a review if you'd like. I don't mind either way. You could even add me on Discord, which you can ask about through a PM.**

 **Anyways, I hope you end up enjoying this little teaser of sorts. The more I looked at my original plan for this story, the more I realized I can put more passion into it, to express some emotions of mine that I've been hiding for a long time.**

 **See you sometime later this week. It may look messy at times, but bear with me. And thank you for all your kind words.**

 **Sleep well, and dream wonderfully.**


	2. Chapter 1 - Storm

Can't breathe.

Hyperventilating.

Losing focus.

Hearing voices.

Paranoia.

Heartbeat racing faster.

The pounding of blood hurts the ears.

Hurts everything.

Agony.

Don't scream. You're already hyperventilating.

 _Relax._

How can I?

 **This is your personal hell.**

* * *

He awoke once more. What was probably the second time that same day.

Veigar observed his immediate surroundings. He was under an old tree outside of the town, out of sight from the road. The woolen bag of supplies was still there by his side. Seemed he had taken a rather quick nap.

Some nap. He was hearing voices again.

After the interesting scuffle with the young kid and the bully, Veigar had attempted to hold his composure so none of the spectators would notice how badly he was shaking underneath that hat. He had almost lost control, too. He looked at the gauntlet that was on the ground before him, which he had shed upon collapsing under the tree. The gauntlet, which seemed hilariously oversized for his arm, was in fact infused with hextech magic, allowing him to control it using his sorcery and create the illusion of impossible strength. In fact, Veigar was incredibly frail.

So very frail. His right hand, which he wore the gauntlet on, was not a pretty sight. The fur around it was in constant disarray. Scars covered it. Scars that were the result of unspeakable horrors. He massaged his disfigured hand with his left, wincing in discomfort. He had to constantly use an herbal ointment on his right hand as well as a good deal of his body in order to even function daily. Unfortunately, it only provided temporary relief. Just another reason why he needed to visit that scummy shopkeeper in order to purchase more supplies. The herbs he needed didn't grow naturally around here, and he needed to venture rather far elsewhere in Valoran to even obtain any. Something he didn't prioritize. No no, there were other things he needed to do.

What were those things again?

He'll figure that out later. Right now, he needed to continue on his return trip home.

 _Just teleport back, you numbskull_.

No, he couldn't. That would just be very lazy. It would probably be the best idea right now, but he had put off any kind of walking for so long. There was something nagging at him. Some sort of…

Some sort of old curiosity. Oh, how he hated curiosity. For it was exactly that which got him into the entire mess in the first place.

So curious to see the world, yet too naive at the time to fully comprehend it.

Yet, surprisingly, after being on his own for so many years, he was pretty good at looking out for himself. Oh, yes.

Veigar tapped the gauntlet, and channeled dark energy. With a quick, simple spell, he teleported the hunk of metal to his home. One less thing to carry. He didn't know why it seemed like a good idea at the time, but he wanted his right hand to have a break for once. He straightened his hat, and swung the bag of food and herbs over his back once more, resuming his journey.

He got back on the road, looking straight ahead towards where he knew his home awaited him.

The mage looked back in the direction where he came from, where the town was.

He muttered exasperatedly to himself.

"Idiotic of me… why did I think _that_ would be a good idea…?"

* * *

These clouds are heavy. Much too heavy.

Veigar gazed upwards through a gap in the forest canopy, observing the clouds. He wasn't going to get a good glimpse from this perspective, but it didn't look good. These clouds were darker and more grim than anything he had seen before. He needed to hurry home. Any torrential downpours would impede his journey's progress. Probably should have done that teleportation, but it would be a bit lame to turn back now.

The forest surrounding Bandle City had also changed quite a bit in the past few months. The area directly surrounding the city wasn't so bad, but the further out you went, the denser the trees, and the more shrouded the forest floor became. Even though Veigar knew the land surrounding his manor was indeed afflicted by dark magic, that had nothing to do with this. He was still a few hours walk away from reaching his home.

His home…

The way he had come upon his magical capabilities was indeed a pleasant surprise for him. He had toured the land, learning from various mages. Veigar actually didn't learn dark magic at first, but learned from the other elements as well. The air, water, fire, earth, nature, and other mixtures of elements. It was only then that his hatred at the world could manifest into dark magic. For dark magic was the essence of emotion. Emotion fueled his power, honed his skills and strength. His hate fueled his determination to become more powerful, and one day enact his revenge on the world.

 _But revenge for what?_

The dark mage stopped in his tracks.

Was he hearing things again?

He hated hearing things.

Revenge… because no one was there to save him. He had to get by on his own. He did manage on his own. Became skilled in the arcane. Built his home manor from nothingness. Nurtured his tortured body. Trained himself, steeled himself. Because he hated everything. Yes, that was why.

Yet here he was, doubting himself again. Why wasn't he so sure of himself?

Stop hearing voices in your head.

…

Veigar continued on.

Only this time he did hear something. It wasn't a voice in his head, but rustling from behind the trees.

He quietly stopped again, subtly examining his surroundings once more.

All was still for about a minute. Veigar's breathing became quieter.

2 minutes passed.

3 minutes.

5.

...10 minutes passed.

Then he heard it. More rustling, and it wasn't the wind that was causing it, for there was no wind to be heard.

There was something stalking him.

Veigar calmly turned his whole body, his eyes sweeping and analyzing.

There was nothing to be seen. It was quite dark, but that shouldn't be a problem for his eyes, which specifically were honed to see in pitch black darkness. He spent another couple minutes observing his surroundings, but finding nothing. Yet, he could feel the presence of something. Whatever was stalking him, it was very, very silent.

Veigar figured he shouldn't stay in one place for too long. He once again resumed his journey, albeit at a more cautious pace, his ears kept very alert for any more noise.

No more rustling noises were heard behind him.

Another hour or so passed without interruption. It was strangely calming, trekking through such a lonely forest. He saw forest critters here and there, but they usually retreated into their tree homes upon viewing the mage. But that was to be expected. There would probably never be a time where Veigar ever encountered anyone he could call friend. He was too far gone for that.

At least, that's what he told himself in his mind.

Veigar soon found himself at a familiar landmark. A forest clearing, a wide open oasis amongst the endless dark trees. It was like a mini dome, with the forest canopy still covering most of the sky above, but with little to no trees residing in the center. In the center itself was a single log surrounded by grass, appearing like a bench that you'd find at any park where young yordles go to play. He remembered walking by this same log on his way towards the town.

Upon viewing it once more, he found…

That the clearing was once again, empty. He was in perfect solitude.

Veigar thought he needed a break, anyways. He felt his sore muscles nearly give way as he neared the lonely log, dropping the bag on the grassy earth and seating himself with a long sigh.

How he had let himself go. His muscles probably suffered from mild atrophy due to lack of physical activity. Sure he was carrying a load, but he expected to make it home before resting. The temptation to teleport returned, but he firmly ignored the thought. Teleporting made him woozy anyways.

Veigar took a deep breath, and attempted to just sit still. Emptying his mind, he let his legs rest. He watched the trees, still keeping an eye out for anything that may have still followed him. If there really was a presence, he could sense it, but so far nothing had been detected. Reaching into the bag, he fished out a small chunk of bread and hungrily stuffed it into his mouth. It made him feel a little better. Could use something like cheese or butter, though…

Butter. When was the last time he had something like that? Only Bandle City carried luxury goods like butter, milk, ice cream, and all the other nice treats. All the young kids of the city would flock to ice cream stands, picking out their favorite flavours, like chocolate, vanilla, and butter pecan. He remembered faintly a place where the best Bandle pancakes ever were made… the memory of a smell drifted across his nose, like a phantom ghost. He sniffed. And smelled nothing.

A tear went down his cheek.

"Why?"

A second tear fell.

"Why can't I go back…?", his voice cracked, speaking to no one in particular.

Veigar felt a sudden headache overcome him. He grabbed at his forehead with his mangled hand, hat falling off his head and tumbling behind the log. His fingers gripped at his hair, gripped tight.

It hurt. Ohhh, why did it hurt so.

 _Why am I crying?_

His fingers gripped even tighter, nails scratching and causing his forehead to bleed slightly.

 _I did this to myself. Did you forget, you idiot?_

The tears stopped falling. He remembered all of the negativity.

His head still hurt. Like a migraine had overcome his brain and started stabbing it with hot knives. Serrated edges, twisting-

Please stop.

Make it stop.

Oh please all that is holy and unholy, make it stop.

Suddenly, everything became too quiet.

His body convulsed.

 _You forgot to breathe._

His grip loosened. Veigar felt incredibly nauseous.

He slid off the log onto his knees. Then, he fell to the side, his head collapsing conveniently onto the bag of supplies, like a pillow.

 _You imbecile._

His vision darkened, then went pitch black. A blackness not even his eyes could see through.

* * *

For the third time that day, he awoke once more, incredibly groggy.

Veigar weakly pushed off the ground, sitting upright in front of the log. He didn't feel very well.

Had he just passed out?

That wasn't a good sign. It's been a very long time since he just fainted like that. His memory was clogged from what happened before he faded to black.

His head throbbed, albeit not so intensely.

He noted that his bag of supplies was still there, with a dent in it from where his head was resting.

Veigar rubbed his hand over his head, feeling dried up blood covering his forehead and scratching his ears in annoyance at the sudden predicament. Now he REALLY needed to get home. Maybe he needed freaking medical attention. Or maybe he finally went insane. Yay.

He scratched his ears again, noticing something.

Where the hell was his hat?

That's when the noises started again. The rustling.

He looked around suddenly alert, wincing at turning his head too fast, which aggravated his throbbing headache. The disturbances sounded a little more distant, considering he was in the middle of a giant clearing in the forest. But that made it sound more ominous, as the rustling noises seemed to come from all directions.

Also, he noticed something else.

It was abnormally dark.

He couldn't see anything when he looked upwards. Couldn't see any light shining in through the trees. Couldn't even see the damn trees.

He tried to hone his vision and observe in front, to the sides, and behind him. Visibility was horrible, and he could barely see 5 feet in any direction. Only things he could see for reference was the log he rested against, the grass, and his bag.

He should at least find his dang hat, where the heck was it?!

The noises of rustling from far away seemed to slowly get closer. Veigar swore he could feel pairs of eyes on him.

He also heard another noise. This one sounded like deep breathing. It was very muffled, but he could just make it out.

It was coming from the other side of the log.

Veigar slowly stood up, careful not to make noise as well as aggravate his headache. He peaked over to the other side, barely making out the shape of something residing on the ground. He still couldn't see shit.

He really didn't want to use any magic, but there was no choice at this point, for his life was potentially in danger.

Veigar focused his energy into the palm of his hand, concentrating it into one small center. He wrapped his fingers around it like holding a golf ball, as light began to peak through. He then released, creating an orb of light that floated a few feet above his head.

The light shone outwards, revealing…

His pointed hat, with the tip pointing upwards. Just sitting there on the other side of the log.

He amusedly let out a sigh of relief, thinking he was going to find something else, chuckling a bit (which still didn't help his headache). Would've been a terrible thing if he lost his hat, his most prized possession.

Veigar reached for the hat, and picked it up.

The light then shone briefly upon an orange form that was curled up beneath it.

"WHAT THE SH-"

Veigar promptly covered his mouth with his hands, stopping himself from making any noise. Now he was incredibly annoyed, and startled, and annoyed at being startled. He peaked back over at the slumbering form that was apparently sleeping underneath his hat.

Orange fur, huge ears. Tips of ears and tail coated with some ancient hue of cyan blue. Ceremonial skull atop his head, tusks poking upwards from its lips. Hugging a boomerang made out of bone to its chest. The only article of clothing it wore (if you count it as clothing anyways) was a loincloth.

He remembered this little runt.

This yordle went by the name of Gnar. Or at least, thats just what Gnar kept saying most of the time, thus everyone dubbed it as Gnar. A yordle supposedly frozen in time. Veigar had heard the stories. Had researched him. Whatever ancient time it was from, Gnar was definitely a different sort of anatomy, as Veigar's generation had most surely evolved from Gnar's time. Veigar didn't know of ANY yordles who even had a tail, for god's sake.

But Veigar didn't have time to deal with this. His eyes dashed at his surroundings, listening intently for any more rustling noises. He really shouldn't be letting his guard down at a time like this. But what manner of creature would dare threaten _him_?

He looked back down at Gnar again.

Only to realize that Gnar was looking right back at him.

"...Gnarrrr…?", mumbled out the orange furred yordle.

Veigar sighed.

Gnar was shivering a bit, probably due to the lack of warmth from Veigar's hat. The mage also noticed orange fur stuck to his precious hat, making him scowl in disgust. Yet another thing he'd have to clean, patting it down in an attempt to clean it off before putting it back on his head, shrouding his face once more.

Gnar's huge, charcoal brown eyes watched Veigar's every expression curiously. Veigar desperately wished he wouldn't, because he felt like he was being watched by a child. He didn't perceive Gnar as much of a threat, actually, as Gnar was biologically only 4 yordle years old. Barely above a toddler. Yet, Gnar seemed to show much more intelligence than the average 4 year old yordle. If only people could actually understand Gnar's words. Most of his "words" came out in some ancient language which he had barely scraped the surface of researching.

"Okanoo… oga manni maxa!", Gnar almost humorously raised his arms, roughly imitating a greeting, albeit quite drowsily from being suddenly awoken.

Veigar winced. "Would you shut up, you little rodent?", he shushed at the youngling. However, as he listened intently for the threatening presence, he realized there were no more noises coming from the trees anymore. The dark haze remained, however, stifling his vision stubbornly. The orb of light he had created still lingered above, doing little to help.

He looked back at Gnar, who was still just standing there watching him like he was the most interesting thing that happened to the youngling for a very long time.

Well, if Gnar was just going to stand there and do nothing, Veigar figured he should make for his exit stage move.

The mage fumbled around in the dark until he found his bag of supplies, hoisting it up and over his back once more, and nonchalantly began to walk in the direction he figured his home was. Or at least he was just trying to walk anywhere that would take him away from Gnar. His orb of light began to follow above his head, illuminating the ground before him.

It took Gnar about 30 seconds before he realized the dark yordle was simply leaving the area. The youngling quickly picked up his boomerang and ran after him.

Veigar watched out of the corner of his eye as Gnar gently pursued him. Gnar was making extra careful not to come too close, but still followed behind.

Veigar stopped, turning around and facing down the primitive yordle in a menacing manner.

Gnar stopped just as abruptly, completely oblivious to how very bemused Veigar was becoming. Though, the orb of light floating above Veigar's head also peaked his interest immensely.

"Shoo", the dark yordle stated bluntly, making a shooing motion with his free hand.

Unfortunately for Veigar, Gnar's eyes only lit up brighter, as he once more raised his arms high above his head with boomerang in hand, shouting "Shoo shoo, PAHNAA!"

Veigar facepalmed.

Instead of putting in any effort to really care, Veigar started walking in the other direction yet again. He finally reached the end of the clearing as trees began to surround his path on both sides once more.

Gnar tried yet again to follow. However, before he could get very far, some vines began to unravel from the trees, startling the poor youngling as it gathered in his path and blocked the way.

It was Veigar who summoned the vines with a wave of his hand. Maybe a little bit of magic would discourage the little runt from pursuing. He heard Gnar's panicked cries from the other side of the vines, as he chuckled and continued his journey home. After a minute, the cries faded into the background and became silent.

All was calm and quiet aside from his footsteps for some time, much to Veigar's relief. He appreciated the calm, and the small orb of light continued to follow in his wake.

It didn't last for too long, however.

He heard the rustling noises begin again. Dread began to fill him, as he feared the worst. The noises came from behind him.

Then it came from above him.

Then…

Then Gnar suddenly landed right in front of him, blocking his path once more. The orange furred yordle raised his arms above his head, and took (what Veigar assumed was) a fierce stance.

"... Grrrr... GnnRAWRRRRR!" The young yordle makes a comic face and a pose, facing down the dark yordle bravely.

Veigar let out a very long, weary sigh. Gnar must have climbed over every little vine and caught up with him like the persistent little thing he was.

"You are probably the most annoying thing I've encountered in my life, Gnar." Veigar muttered and grumbled to himself. Gnar seemed to ease up a bit at his words for some reason, regardless of the negativity in Veigar's voice.

"Ah... ahangaa...!" Gnar made another motion with his yordle paws.

The two of them stood there in awkward silence, watching the other. Well, at least it couldn't get worse for Veigar, right?

Then it started to rain, like the universe was making fun of the entire situation.

As if Veigar couldn't get any more miserable.

Thankfully, his wide brimmed hat sheltered himself like an umbrella, but Gnar was not so lucky at the sudden downpour. The rain seeped through the forest canopy above, coming in like waterfalls around them. His fur beginning to dampen fast, Gnar did the only thing he thought was logical at the time in his rather young and innocent mind.

He ran directly at Veigar and collided into him, hugging the mage's side and pretty much getting rainwater all over his robes.

Veigar stiffened up. Ohhh, how so badly he wanted to just shove Gnar away. How he wanted to just shove him and watch him fall into the wet mud around. He'd probably get a kick out of that.

…

But he didn't. He remembered something about Gnar. He figured it was not worth the effort at that particular moment. That didn't mean he was okay with his predicament in any way, shape or form. Now he'd have to wash his robes when he got home, too.

He accepted his fate, if only for now, and began to resume his journey slowly, considering Gnar was still clinging to him very tightly. The two of them began to make their way through the dark, rainy forest, towards an uncertain destiny tying the two of them together. A journey that would echo, and flicker across the heavens.

Flickering against the Storm.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hiya. For those of you whom stuck around since the beginning, I wanted to thank you once more. It's been pretty much all of you whom encouraged me more than you may realize.**

 **If I haven't already told you, I never actually meant to write more than one chapter on this little story of mine. But after how well received it was, I felt the desire to give more to you all. And I'm glad I've stuck with this wild ride.**

 **And now, for any of whom may have just discovered my story, welcome. And, allow me to explain. After writing all of these twelve chapters, I hit a sort of writers block, and stopped writing for a whole 9 months. I've decided, after releasing that little Prologue, to rewrite each chapter. This here, is the first rewrite. To be honest, I don't know if I'm even fully satisfied, but I can always go through re-edits as I see fit. Partly, I felt the need to do something to the beginning of this story, as it is very different in my writing style compared to the last 4-6 chapters, I feel. I wanted to bring the beginning and middle in line with how it is currently. Who knows how that will turn out, eh?**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy so far. I will try my best to not delay each rewrite, but I got into my first job recently. It's taking up quite a bit of my time, and it feels difficult dividing time between gaming and writing. I promise I will try my best, though! ; )**

 **And hey, if you'd like, you could add me and join my Discord server just to chat~ ... I promise I don't bite xD. Some couple others can attest to that, I hope! I thank you for your kind words, Vaitle, and a certain Dragon who is also a pickle :3.**

 **Anyways, PM me if you are interested in interacting with me more. I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have for me as well.**

 **Til next time...**

 **Sleep well, and dream wonderfully.**


	3. Chapter 2 - World of Darkness (OLD)

**Author's Note: Leave a review if you liked** **it, each one helps me immensely!**

"...No wait, just… just sit over there and calm yourself… I'll dry you off don't worry… by any stars that exist DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

Veigar was almost driven to insanity when Gnar's rather bushy tail swung the wrong way and nearly knocked a very ancient and rare artifact off a table, almost sending it crashing to the floor into a hundred glass fragments. It would have, too, had it not been that Veigar was still a mage (and a powerful one at that), and managed to cast a spell just in time to levitate the glass object and stop such a catastrophe from happening.

The two yordles had just gotten back to Veigar's home just in time before the storm started to get violent, now transformed into a thunderstorm capable of cracking the sky with lightning. Even the dark yordle's magic wasn't enough to stop them from getting completely soaked, though he had at least salvaged the bag of supplies that he had procured from his journey. Although he did try (though he would never admit it) to keep Gnar safe from the torrential downpour, the prehistoric yordle had a very hard time not getting soaked with water, dampening his fur immensely. It took Gnar's sheer willpower not to shake himself off in the grand foyer of Veigar's abode, as he could sense that it would displease the dark yordle based on the frantic and amusing hand gestures he was making. He could not, however, stop his tail from flailing around in discomfort and nearly ending the life of a glass artifact.

" **REESHOVA**!" Gnar frantically exclaimed, trying to express his new-found discomfort of being completely soaked and dripping all over the floor, letting out a yelp at Veigar's sudden outburst, but then just as suddenly freezes when he sees the glass object floating a mere inch off the floor, most likely mesmerized because the young yordle has never seen magic before.

Veigar promptly rushed forward and picked up the artifact in his hands, being very, VERY careful not to make a scratch on it, wiping the water off with his robe sleeve and gently placing it back on its table stand which it originally resided. He released a pent up sigh of relief as he gathered his wits again.

He looked around the grand foyer again of his home (which was technically a mansion hidden away in the forest), as he eyes glanced over at Gnar who was gazing at him with new-found curiosity, noticing to his despair how much the young yordle was still dripping all over the carpet floor.

Groaning and taking a deep breath, he focused for a second and tapped into his magical powers, summoning towels made of cotton out of thin air, catching them in his arms and quickly walks over to Gnar, and just as quickly (but still gently) wraps a couple of the towels around the yordle's dripping head. Gnar flailed around a little bit, letting out more soft yelps, but ceased his struggle as Veigar rubbed and brushed the towel over his face and around his ears, being as gentle as he could. Slowly but surely, Gnar felt the soaked feeling begin to go away, as Veigar threw away the now used towel to the side and summoned another fresh one to wrap over Gnar's shoulders, which he now hugged firmly and started to shiver.

"You cold, Gnar?" the dark yordle inquired. "I haven't seen a storm like this since…" Veigar trailed off, getting lost in his thoughts as he pondered, scratching his chin with his uncovered hand. Gnar's ears perked up upon hearing his name and shuffling over to Veigar, still holding the towel wrapped around him and gently plowing into the mage and nuzzling his side, gently startling him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, yes… just come with me, we'll take care of that right now and worry about things later." Veigar pats Gnar on the head again and beckons him to follow, beginning to trudge up the stairs and getting water everywhere on the steps (Veigar had given up worrying about it for now and would clean it later). The prehistoric yordle eagerly, albeit clumsily, followed him up the stairs, almost tripping a few times due to his hands being occupied with clinging to the cotton towel.

Multiple times before he had even arrived back home with Gnar in company, Veigar had asked himself why he was taking in a guest, something he had NEVER done in his life. He asked himself why he was being gentle when he was rough, soft when he was harsh. Other yordle despised him. Feared him. Shunned. Looked the other way. Even attacked him sometimes. They were no match for him, of course, but the inconvenience was still begrudging.

So why take in someone now?

…

Maybe there was a little voice in his head (" _But I can't be crazy or insane, that's just silly!_ ") which he has been listening to a little more often lately… He had sworn never to listen to said voice for so long, but here he was, heeding its soft, light taps at the very back of his tortured mind.

Gnar is just a youngling… he would never mean any harm. Sure, the little bugger nearly ended the life of a poor vase by knocking it into oblivion, but that was just an unintentional accident! And it didn't look like he had anywhere even remotely close to seek shelter other than with Veigar himself… and as evil as Veigar likes to believe himself to be, maybe he… could use some company every once in awhile.

…

 _Wait, evil needs no company! Evil needs no friends! You are so weak for thinking that you could really-_

"Shut up."

Veigar abruptly stopped moving down the hallway, so abruptly that Gnar didn't even notice and bumped right into his back, bouncing right off and falling right on his rump, letting out a sudden yelp in pain.

The dark yordle was startled out of that odd state of mind and quickly looked over his shoulder at the young yordle sitting upon the floor, towel still loosely wrapped around Gnar as he began to whimper softly.

For some reason, Veigar paused again. He was feeling two twisting state of minds tear at each other in his mind.

Help him, Veigar.

 _Don't help him, you imbecile. Weaklings deserve to suffer._

Don't just stand there, help him!

 _Don't you dare…_

…

Something sparked within his eyes as he promptly rushed forward, kneeling on the floor beside Gnar and gently hooking an arm under the youngling's legs, and wrapping the other arm behind Gnar's back, picking him up and cradling him almost like a little baby. Gnar's soft whimpers suddenly ceased as he gazed in sudden awe up into Veigar's eyes.

And yet again, for some odd reason, Veigar paused again. He saw Gnar looking straight at him and felt… confused? Confused at the way the prehistoric yordle gazed at him in… a strange sort of affection?

But this time, no voices clashed in his mind.

"C'mon, Gnar… let's take you to get warmed up. I hope you didn't bruise yourself too badly, as well", Veigar hurriedly exclaimed, securing his grip of the yordle and continuing down the hallway. Perhaps what Veigar didn't realize was that because Gnar was so close, he could see past the illusionary darkness that surrounded his face, a special spell that he cast intended to be a veil that prevented anyone from seeing his true face. It was that which Gnar saw past, which caused him to look in awe at the dark yordle. Twas just a glance, yes, but a glance more than anyone else had ever seen. And Gnar would treasure what he saw for years to come.

That scarred face of Veigar.

…

Gnar quickly nuzzled his head against the dark yordle's chest, as he was carried away further down the hallway, further into the darkness that was Veigar's mansion. Yet, unlike the dark depths of the mansion itself, somehow the dark yordle's mind found itself just a tad less dark… as if a single candle was lit in a world of darkness.


	4. Chapter 3 - The Kindling (OLD)

**Author's note: Please let me know in a review if you'd like to see longer chapters, as I have plans for the rest of this story. I have various ways that I wish to express my imagination, so please, let me know what you'd like to see. Thank you for reading!**

The kindling started with a spark. A spark in the dark room. That spark turned into embers, and the embers began to flare. Tiny waves of fire began to lick away at the firewood, beginning to claim their territory and enveloping all life.

All started with a spark. A spark kindled an old memory of Veigar's as well, as he finished igniting the fireplace so that Gnar could warm himself up. The young yordle seemed to meet an old friend with that fire as he promptly curled up in the presence of those warm flames, letting out pleasing purrs as he sought that warmth. Veigar too knelt in front of the fire for a while, warming up his hands and taking the moment to gather his thoughts again.

A lot had happened this day. The trip for supplies, which lay partially forgotten on his workbench in his room. The meeting of Gnar. The storm, which still tickled at his curiosity as something most unusual. And… that clash of his inner thoughts.

Veigar, for the time being, found a moment of clarity. Of… peace? His thoughts were always an inner turmoil, a storm inside his very mind. Always clashing. Never at peace and never calm. It was difficult for him to form coherent thoughts. So how was he able to perceive this now? As he stared into the flames, he decided to let bygones be bygones, and just simply enjoy this moment of a clear mind, watching the flames swathe and curl around in strange shapes within the fireplace. Such was the actions of a bewitched fire, he supposed.

He stopped warming his hands for the time being. His gaze turned instead to Gnar, who was being very cuddly with his towel now, his furs now completely dry and seeming much fluffier than Veigar even thought possible. The young yordle was clinging onto his own tail, partially using it as a pillow, his eyes closed in pure bliss, most likely due to relief of that terrible storm.

Veigar watched him for awhile. Observed how vulnerable Gnar was. But no dark thoughts were in his mind. It's as if the dark yordle **expected** them to come.

But none came.

He shook his head to free himself of said thoughts. They were starting to become inconvenient. How ironic, considering that his current thoughts were the ones he once considered in such a way.

He softly trudged away from the fire towards the workbench where he had left his bag of supplies, making sure to be quiet so as to not disturb Gnar's impromptu nap. He fumbled with his damp robe's coat buttons, beginning to unbutton and slowly shed himself of his robe and hung it on the nearby coat stand so he could dry it off later. He wore a simple woolen undershirt to keep himself warm in harsher conditions, which he also freed himself of, exposing his dark-furred upper body. He didn't wish to see his own body for long, however, and quickly donned a simpler woolen robe which he used within his home.

He finally turned to the bag of supplies. He lifted and turned the bag over on its side, emptying its contents. It revealed empty scrolls, which he intended to use for writing down runes and glyphs for his arcane studies, and also spilled out various culinary ingredients such as veggies, meats, and spices, all specially wrapped in preservative magics so that they'd last the journey without perishing. He had intended to use these ingredients to make soup for himself… but now he also had a guest to tend to as well.

He gathered up the ingredients in his arm and quietly left the room, going just down the hall to the kitchen. He laid out the food on the chopping table. Rummaging through the cupboards, some of which were covered in cobwebs (promptly cleaning up the place with a quick spell), took out some knives and a cooking pot, and set to his task.

Less than an hour passed, as Veigar reentered the room where he had left Gnar in front of the fireplace, carrying a tray with 2 steaming bowls of soup, alongside 2 spoons. He set it down on a nearby table, then took one of the bowls gently in his hand and walked over to the napping yordle. Right as he knelt down beside Gnar, the yordle stirred gently awake, due to the simmering and pleasant scent reaching his sensitive nose.

"Oooo…. okanoo?" Gnar muttered, sniffing with sleepy eagerness. Veigar dipped the spoon into the broth, lifting it back up and blowing on the steaming contents to cool it off a bit before gently lifting it to Gnar's mouth. The young yordle sniffed once more before timidly opening his mouth slightly ajar, as Veigar fed him the contents of the soup. Gnar sipped slowly, tasting the broth as his eyes lit up in immense pleasure. He purred in satisfaction as Veigar dipped the spoon again into the soup, and repeated the process. For many minutes, it seemed, he repeated this process of feeding Gnar, whom slowly felt his belly warming up with the wonderful contents of Veigar's cooking.

Once Gnar was finally full, he had the biggest smile on his face and a new found affection for this dark yordle who took him into his home. As Veigar took his own bowl of soup and began to feed himself, he was startled when Gnar's head gently collapsed onto his lap, curling up rather cutely with a fully belly in tow. But Veigar didn't frown, as he would have done with another state of mind, but rather, a gentle smile lifted his lips once more. He let Gnar rest on his lap for awhile as he finished his own bowl of soup broth.

He took the time to think once more. He got some decent amount of supplies for his studies to last for a month, maybe. However, his food storage wouldn't last nearly as long with a guest in tow. He didn't even realize that he intended to let Gnar stay for an extended period of time. When he was alone, he barely ate much. His darkened body seemed to be able to run on a very low amount of nutrients, due to his past… he still shuddered thinking about it. However, now that his mind seemed to think with much more clarity, he felt himself hungering for more nutrients. Or, more specifically, he felt himself hungering like a **normal** yordle again. This thought felt foreign to him.

Unfortunately, Veigar didn't have the luxury of making trips very often. He would rather limit his exposure to other yordles. He was still seen as an enemy. All of his past actions of brash boasting of his evil intentions (actions he now saw as being… childish?) had basically tarnished his reputation. Notable names were those yordles who were at the top of their position. Yordles like Teemo, Tristana, and Poppy would be more than eager to apprehend him and take him to prison. And those were just the yordles of Bandle City. There were others, like those from Piltover, such as Heimerdinger and Ziggs, who would also gladly follow suit. Not just yordles, too. Even those pesky humans, like Caitlyn, Vi, or Jayce.

The point is, Veigar had many enemies. The only difference from before was, Veigar wondered if it was really worth making such enemies.

Veigar tapped into his magic and summoned a book from his library, since he didn't want to get up and wake Gnar up from his (second) impromptu nap. Normally Veigar studied ancient tomes of dark, Black magic. But this time… he summoned a rather dusty book of that one part of his library he once considered useless. It was a book which studied that of plants. What was he planning? For some reason, the idea of **growing** his own food seemed to be a practical idea in his mind.

Wait, what the heck was he thinking? He lives in the middle of a freaking forest. The canopy doesn't just let in sunlight. Even if it did, this horrid storm, if his theory was correct, would NOT be going away anytime soon. Why was he planning to create a garden in this desolate area?

…

No. That's not how a mage thinks, Veigar reminded himself. He is a mage. A POWERFUL mage at that. And, regardless of what people may think, Veigar didn't practice **only** dark magic. He was capable of so much more. His clear mind, full of ideas and creativity, was, at that very moment, brainstorming many possibilities that no yordle had even thought possible before.

His mind… had never felt more alive before. It was such a wonderful feeling, his body swelled up with ecstatic energy. He was just about ready to revolutionize the very world that he lived in, he-

Veigar was suddenly startled a literal before he moved, as Gnar released the most random purr from his yordle lips, already deep in a dream. Veigar felt brought back out of his intense thought process, as he remembered that Gnar was still resting on his lap. He calmed for a bit. He sat there in silence for a minute. Maybe more. He sort of forgot how much it mattered at this point.

He slowly set aside his finished bowl of soup along with his book, and wrapped his arms around the slumbering yordle, lifting him up and cradling Gnar in his arms against his chest, and carried him out of the room, but not before snuffing out the temporary fire. They entered one of the many spare bedrooms of his mansion. Veigar trudged up to the king-sized bed, gently laying Gnar out upon its warm sheets. Gnar sprawled for a second in his new found comfort as the now not-so-dark yordle pulled the sheets over his form, tucking him in like a parent would a child.

As an afterthought (or more accurately, **without** thinking), Veigar soothingly scratched one of the prehistoric yordle's ears, eliciting an affectionate purr out of Gnar, before Veigar himself exited the room, set to put his plan in motion the very next day. Only this time, it wouldn't be an evil plan.

Yes, indeed, the candle had been kindled. But soon its light would grow to be so unfathomably incandescent.


	5. Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm (OLD)

Veigar lay awake in his bed for what seemed like hours. He had ended up changing his bed sheets and such because he never realized how uncomfortable it was before. Perhaps this was because he always drank a sleeping potion before going to bed each night due to some particular nightmares that haunted him regardless of doing so EVERY night. But now, that same sleeping potion sat on a table next to him, forgotten about and unnecessary. Those nightmares seemed to have gone away entirely, which baffled Veigar. However, at the same time, he didn't know exactly how to even fall asleep. Irony.

He remembered making sure Gnar was safely tucked into his own bed earlier. The little yordle seemed so innocent, and fell asleep so fast that it caused Veigar to wonder if Gnar had ever slept in a king sized bed before. That thought alone was enough to trouble him. Who thought it was a good idea to just let Gnar go off on his own, alone in a large world without anyone to take care of him?

Veigar paused once again, pondering. He had been having lots of these interesting notions ever since he met Gnar. These foreign thoughts. These thoughts of him… caring about someone else? He hardly cared about his own well being. For the longest time, the only thing important to him was "taking over the world", and "doing evil" and and and and-

…

It seemed once again in his new found moment of clarity, even as he tried to fall asleep, his now awakened and vibrant mind was slowly becoming self aware. Now Veigar felt something new tickling away at his subconscious.

Guilt.

What had he been doing for the past few years? It was all a haze to him now. He had made enemies. He knew that for sure. The reasons as to why he did was escaping him. Had he been an idiot this whole time?

He tossed and turned in discomfort, becoming increasingly frustrated at his lack of sleep. On one hand, he was very excited to get to work the following day, knowing that he had to do something to solve his food problem. But he also became aware that he, too, had a physical living body which needed sleep every now and then as well. Both directions clashed with each other, over and over and over again, which most likely caused this regrettable situation.

He had to go to sleep. He had to fix this food problem. He had to figure out what to do with Gnar. Then he had to possibly make another trip through the forest. And he had to watch out for those who despised him. And he had much more to do upon his return, and and and and-

…

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Veigar awoke slowly. Grumpily. He hated everything all of a sudden. Everything sucked. Everything could go burn. What did he have to do today? He forgot. He could care less. He crawled out of bed, his body aching, every muscle in his fragile, shattered body crying out in agony. He put on his morning gown and stumbled over to his bathroom. He gazed into the mirror for a second and saw something stare back at him. It frustrated him further as he splashed water onto his face.

The dark yordle exited the room down the hallway, and was about to unleash a storm of curses at his dumb luck last night when he suddenly heard a noise, and froze. What was that?

He determined the direction of the noise emanating from one of the spare bedrooms. He peeked into the room, seeing an occupant in the bed stirring around and flailing, making peculiar noises. Who the hell was that? Had someone broken into his house?

He seethed in sudden, flaring anger as he almost stomped over to the side of the bed, intent on confronting this intruder. He tore away at the covers, revealing the trespasser and- !

Large, floppy ears. Vibrant, orange hue fur. Bushy tail flailing. And then, those two large, charcoal brown eyes.

It was as if something in Veigar's mind snapped in half, as a candle flared up once again in a room filled with dark clouds. Only this time, the candle ignited and unleashed a storm of fire, intent on chasing away those accursed, dark tendrils. And then nothing. Except for that one, lone candle, flames spewing living light that licked away at his subconscious confines.

Veigar blinked. He blinked as he gazed down upon Gnar, everything suddenly coming back to him from the previous day as he remembered. Gnar, in turn, gazed up curiously at the yordle who stood beside his bed. His large eyes gazed into Veigar's, which mere seconds before had been shining an eerie yellow glow. Except, as he stared for a little while, that yellow glow left his eyes, leaving behind what Gnar could only describe in his infant mind as the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

It probably helped since Veigar, as clouded his mind was during his awakening, forgot to put on his hat.

Gnar could see every detail on the dark yordle's face. Veigar's appearance was somewhat alike to other adult yordles, except his one unique feature was the dark, blackened shade of his fur. Tufts of cheek fur were also present, and a single, nasty looking scar ran just between his eyes. Perhaps this would give him a more fearsome appearance, were it not for the very soft gaze that Veigar held upon Gnar. His eyes, which no longer glowed, retained its color, which was now a soft yellow surrounding his black pupils.

Veigar's ears twitched as he noticed Gnar gazing back at him for a rather prolonged period of time. That innocent gaze just staring back at him. Something about it made him blush.

He shook his head in confusion at that burning feeling in his cheeks when a paw suddenly touched his arm. Gnar had reached out and touched Veigar's arm, pulling him back to reality.

"Gnarrrr… gada!" the young yordle exclaimed, albeit rather drowsily. Veigar once again remembered himself as a soft and warm smile lifted the corners of his lips. He reached over with his own hand and scratched one of Gnar's ears.

"You awake, Gnar…? You sleep well?" Veigar asked quizzically. The dark anger he had felt earlier had been completely evaporated and forgotten about. "You hungry?"

The prehistoric yordle now held a wide grin upon his face, releasing a purr at the pleasant feeling of his floppy ear being scratched. Gnar pawed at Veigar's arm more needingly as he uttered, "Gnrawrrr… dada!"

Veigar blinked for a couple of seconds. Then he comprehended what Gnar just said.

…

DAD?!

* * *

The dark furred yordle held a rather humorously flustered gaze as he watched Gnar eat away at the hastily-made meat and cheese sandwich that Veigar had prepared for the hungry yordle. The two of them resided in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table. Veigar himself decided not to eat anything yet, as he planned to get food for the first part of the day from the surrounding forest through scavenging.

He rested his head on his hand, once again pondering. Somehow in one day he had become a fatherly figure to Gnar, without even really meaning to. Yes, he was an adult, but more specifically he was a young adult. Nowhere near full maturity, considering the unfortunate events of his past…

He shook his head, refusing to let that bother him. That was the past. The years in that Noxian prison… that would not stop him from starting anew right **now**.

He glanced over again at Gnar, who had seemingly finished his breakfast (some breakfast that was), and was wiggling around in his chair with some uncontainable jubilation. That gave Veigar a smile once more. He had also, on a side note, decided his hat was not necessary so long as he was indoors.

Although Gnar himself had finished breakfast, he had not eaten, due to his plans for today. The two yordles left the kitchen and went back to Veigar's room, where he promptly got dressed into a brown traveling robe with a pointed brown hat to match. He also rummaged through his supplies and gathered a large pouch meant for gathering. Afterwards, they both left together through the front door of Veigar's mansion, since he thought it best to not leave Gnar by himself.

Outside, it seemed like the rain had finally stopped, but the aftereffects were very noticeable. Drops of rain water fell down in huge pockets through the forest canopy, and clouds still prevailed over the sky. The air remained chilly and moist, almost feeling heavy in the space surrounding the two yordles. Gnar hovered closely to Veigar so as to avoid getting too wet. Still, Veigar gazed up every now and then in observation of the forest around them, wondering what could cause this very abnormal weather. It never rained **this** hard ever.

They followed the path for some time, but then deviated to a particular area which Veigar knew was ripe with wildlife that could be harvested from. He also preferred to run into any travelers by accident, though his current attire should make it difficult for him to be recognized. He couldn't say the same for Gnar, unfortunately. The young yordle's bright orange fur made it difficult to disguise in any way possible, especially since no yordle of his generation had a tail.

He found a small clearing rich with berry-filled bushes and set up camp. His goal was simple; to find something he could potentially grow in a personal garden behind his mansion, but he needed something that could survive the lack of constant sunlight due to the forest canopy. As it was, he observed that most of the berries weren't very healthy-looking, and seemed to be withering away. He moved on from bush to bush until he spotted yet another abnormality. A pure white bush sat amidst the shade, littered with bright red dots. This was… a Freljordian berry bush? The leaves of snow white sheen, growing right here in the middle of a forest not far away from Bandle City. Those blood red berries… but it couldn't be.

Veigar carefully plucked one of the berries from their place on the bush and carefully peeled it open, revealing its juicy insides. He carefully examined it and confirmed his suspicions. The mage then plopped it right into his mouth, chewing on the surprisingly crunchy berry as its juices spilled all over his taste buds, almost overwhelming him with their extraordinarily, but exquisite, tart taste. It almost felt like something was freezing his insides too, but left a gentle warm and burning sensation within his stomach that felt ridiculously pleasing to the yordle mage. A wide grin formed on his lips as he realized how lucky he was to stumble across such a discovery. Freljordian berries would be the perfect thing to grow as a major food source. But what in the world was it doing here? The Freljord was literally on the opposite side of the continent. He wondered if perhaps magic really did strange things around this forest.

"Gnar, come here please!" Veigar stated confidently. The prehistoric yordle literally hopped out of a bush from behind him with a small war cry, landing on Veigar's back and knocking him to the ground and startling the heck out of him!

"GNAR!" the young yordle exclaimed in brash victory, before being suddenly lifted as Veigar stood back up, catching Gnar in his arms and promptly tickling the poor yordle and giving him a laughing fit in retaliation. Veigar sure could be evil from time to time.

"Very good, Gnar… but that's not why I called you over here" Veigar stated as he held out a Freljordian snowberry out in his open palm. Gnar calmed down quickly at the sight of the round object in his hand. "Open wide, silly!" Veigar insisted, as Gnar got the idea and opened his mouth. Veigar gently tossed the berry into Gnar's awaiting maw, whom then chomped down on the tasty treat.

Gnar's eyes went hilariously wide from the same tart taste, causing him to jump up and down from sheer energy and running around in circles on all fours. Veigar almost regretted his decision as he ended up having to chase the now hyper (heh) yordle who moved at the speed of light, shouting "SHUBUNAFFA!" at the top of his little lungs.

This was going to be a long day, but Veigar would enjoy every moment of it.

* * *

After quite some hours, the two yordles would be heading back home, with Veigar's pouch full of Freljordian snowberries and seeds. He would intend to use these snowberries as their major food source, but of course he would need to seek an alternative as well. That would be something else to be brainstormed upon. Gnar followed happily behind him, even more invigorated by the thought of tasting more delicious snowberries. They soon found the road again, and followed the path that would soon lead them back at Veigar's home.

"That was a successful trip, I would think!" Veigar sighed in relief to his yordle companion, causing Gnar's head to bob up and down in agreement. The two yordles were in such good spirits. So much so that they did not notice that they were about to meet some company. Two more sets of footsteps caused Veigar's ears to prick about, as he suddenly glanced at the owners of said footsteps walking towards them further up the path, clearly in view now. He stopped, and Gnar imitated.

Oh no. He recognized these two. The two newcomers were also yordles. One was a female, wearing loose goggles upon her forehead as well as a vest that belonged only to the elite of the Bandle Gunners. The other was male, who also wore a military outfit, only it was that of a Bandle City Scout.

Teemo and Tristana.

* * *

 **Author's note: I wanted to get this across, for those of you who may wonder. Since Veigar's face is technically unknown, it's left up to the community and to artists to speculate as to what he really looks like. Thus, I will share with you my favorite interpretation of him, which I've grown immensely fond of. Go to google images, and type in this "veigar sometimes scars don't heal so easily". It should be the first result!**

 **For those curious, the picture belongs to a Tumblr artist by the username of Veigar-Chan. Check them out if you wish!**

 **I hope you are enjoying my first fanfic so far! I'm sorta writing this whenever I want to, and kind of slacking off due to being distracted by other games. I wish I could give you a schedule and all, but I want to at least promise that I'll have a chapter out as often as I can, which, so far, seems to be around every 2-5 days. Let me know what you all prefer to see! Thanks for reading this 3. Take care!**


	6. Chapter 5 - The Encounter (OLD)

"C'mon Tristana, we haven't got all day!", the yordle scout protested for what seemed like the umpteenth time. It seemed like he almost always protested when he had a mission to do alongside others, since his preferences lead to him performing many solo missions on his own terms. But Teemo did not harshly complain. It was more akin to friendly whining, considering Tristana was one of the few yordles who spent time with him in between missions. He would not let anyone spread gossip about them dating, however. No no no, they were just friends. He knew companionship is something a yordle always needs to keep his/her head straight.

"You're such a buzzkill, y'know Teems? Rushing a lady yordle is sure rude~!" the sheyordle shot back at him teasingly. Teemo sighed again at the use of that nickname, and was unfortunately getting used to it. Tristana seemed to be taking her time selecting the right colored pair of goggles for the day, wanting to look prepared (and maybe pretty) for the mission that had been assigned to them.

Well, "mission" is one way to describe it. It was more of a light assignment. The two of them were to visit some of the small towns on the outskirts of Bandle City, mainly to check up on the locals and make sure everything was fine. Some yordles of the land preferred not to be in the bustling pace of the city itself, and preferred to keep to the forest. However, due to the recent storm which was an unprecedented downpour, authorities were worried and thus, decided to send two of the finest to scout out the outskirts. It was more to give them something to do since Teemo and Tristana had both been on break from any major assignments for some time.

Teemo waited in front of Tristana's house with discomfort until she finally joined him outside, making sure her headgear was in place and punching the yordle scout lightly on the shoulder to signal that she was ready to go. The two were to travel lightly, as Tristana wasn't going to bring her cannon Boomer on a light assignment, although Teemo brought a smaller, more portable blowgun just in case. Of course, since both of them were in the Bandle military, they could both fight without weapons if they really needed to. But they were not worried at all.

"I'm glad you took your sweet time, Trist, but you look just fine the way you are. You always do", the scout stated casually, although did elicit a light blush on Tristana's cheeks at the flattery. "Aww, thanks Teems! Let's head on out, shall we?" she replied, as Teemo nodded in agreeance. The pair finally left and set off down the forest path, heading away from Bandle City towards the outskirts.

They left later in the day than usual, though it was not dark outside just yet. The rainwater seemed to fall through the forest canopy in much smaller quantities, leaving a rather beautiful scene around the two yordles. Small amounts of wildlife peaked from their homes, wondering curiously if the storm had gone for good. Birds chirped softly, their song echoing throughout the trees leaving a background symphony that swelled up in volume, only to die back down almost as if conducted to do so by the footsteps of Teemo and Tristana. The two glanced about and simultaneously smiled at the fantastic environment around them, a small silver lining in the aftereffects of the storm.

They finally came across one of the small villages residing in the forest, and stopped there for about an hour and chatted with the locals. They gathered intel on the area, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides that awful storm the previous day. The rain had slightly damaged the town's farm, and they were going to struggle in the next few weeks if a solution wasn't found. Teemo made sure to jot down this information in his scout notebook, intent on gathering as much info as possible from all the villages to give to the authorities. Soon, they set off again down the forest path, heading towards the other towns.

"Hey Teemo," Tristana started, "what do you think of that storm last night? I thought my whole house was going to come down, honestly". Teemo looked lost in thought, wondering the exact same thing.

"I know, Trist. Weather like that, even weather like this right **now** is very uncommon. We've lived in Bandle for years, but the most rain we'd ever get is light drizzles and soft winds. But those clouds… they don't look healthy. They look ominous. It looks as if something is disturbing them." Teemo sighed once again. He seemed to be doing that more often lately.

Tristana frowned at the thought. "Do y'think there's someone who'd know what to do about it? Or maybe even knows what the problem could be in the first place? Someone we could consult about?" she asked the yordle scout.

"I don't know… the only kinds of people who'd even know about this kind of stuff are the magic practitioners. Amongst the yordles, we barely have anyone like that. I guess you could count Lulu as one, but she's sort of banished from the city, so good luck finding her. And I wouldn't even begin to think of Veigar being someone who we can ever trust." Teemo also frowned, considering that they may have to make a trip outside of Bandle land and seek help from the humans. Mayhap it would be better to make a trip to Piltover and seek help from Heimerdinger. Yes, that may work…

The two of them bounced ideas back and forth, so engrossed into discussing this issue that they didn't notice the two fellow travelers further down the road. Despite them being clearly in view now, it was another minute before Teemo's ears pricked at the sounds of two other sets of footsteps that didn't belong to him nor Tristana. He abruptly stopped in his tracks, only a few feet away from crashing right into them.

"Huh? Teemo, what's wrong-" Tristana started, before she too stopped beside him and noticed the two traveling strangers before them.

Or, it would be two strangers, except that Teemo recognized one of them. Those orange furs. That tribal skull on its head, with those large floppy ears. That rather unique tail, which **no** other yordle had, along with this bottom tusks jutting out from its mouth and those vibrant, charcoal brown eyes. He recognized him perfectly. It was the yordle Gnar, the poor youngling who was found frozen in ice, only to break free in a new and foreign world. Stuck in time, yet now was alone in a world with no one to really take care of him. He was accepted into Bandle City for some time and taken care of briefly, but the young yordle had no permanent place to stay. He knew that some locals tried giving him help, but no one was confident about taking him in themselves, and so one day Gnar sort of just vanished. No one knew where he went, although knowing Gnar's curiosity, it wasn't a surprise that he most likely just wandered off into the forest by himself. To see him here now was still a surprise.

However, Teemo did not recognize Gnar's companion. It was a fellow yordle, though it was unlike any yordle he'd seen amongst the commonfolk. This stranger wore brown traveling robes along with a pointed hat to match. It cast a sort of shade over the stranger's face, though he could just make out a pair of very unique light yellow eyes. He realized that the yordle's fur was black, which made it difficult to really discern his facial features other than a nasty looking scar that ran between his eyes. Who was this individual?

Tristana looked between the three of them, realizing that they may have forgotten their manners. "Hello there Gnar! I was wondering where you wandered off to", she said brightly. The prehistoric yordle wagged his tail back in forth, having recognized Tristana around the city and smiling widely. "Reeshova!", Gnar almost shouted, raising his arms in the air proudly in greeting, causing Tristana to giggle.

Teemo shook himself out of the analytical trance he was in, and gave a little cough. "Ahem, yes, I'm sorry for my rudeness. It's good to see you again Gnar, though I would've hoped that you didn't wander off on your own like that. A lot of people were worried about you!" he stated with a smile. Gnar drooped his ears slightly in innocent guilt. "Hey, it's ok, as long as we know you are ok now. Especially since you seem to have found a… friend?"

The stranger glanced at Gnar and then back over to the yordle scout. Teemo sensed a sort of awkwardness in his movements, which prompted him to change tactics. "Oh, I'm really sorry, we are just on a light assignment, and I'm forgetting myself." He held out his hand in greeting. "My name is Teemo. And you are…?"

* * *

Remain calm, Veigar. Remain calm.

This was not something he had planned for. To run right into Teemo and Tristana at this very moment, almost gave him a panic attack. But he had to remain calm. Seeing their faces clearly, he realized that he wasn't recognized. He had neglected to shroud his face in darkness when he left the mansion with Gnar, but perhaps that was actually lucky of him. They may have recognized him then if he had done so.

He saw their mouths moving slowly. Could barely make out their words. He glanced at Gnar, who had his arms held up, before glancing back at the scout. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, making him rather intensely focused for the wrong reason. Dammit Veigar, just keep calm. Keep calm! Soon, everything came back into focus just in time.

"Oh, I'm really sorry, we are just on a light assignment, and I'm forgetting myself." The scout held out his hand in greeting, offering a handshake. "My name is Teemo. And you are…?"

"H-Hi there, I uhm… " Veigar stuttered for a second, mentally pinching himself to try and remain calm. He finally gathered himself and firmly grasped the scout's outstretched hand, shaking it with sudden confidence as he said, "You can call me Logan".

"It's nice to meet you then, Logan", Teemo replied. He dismissed the stranger's nervousness as nothing to be worried about. He did note the hand he gripped as they shook hands had a very scarred and slightly mangled feel to it, as if it had gone through something brutal. It did raise his curiosity, but he stowed the thought in the back of his mind for now. "You look like you've been traveling for some time based on your attire, correct me if I'm wrong?"

Veigar pondered that for a moment, glancing down for a second to examine his attire. His brown travel robes definitely seemed to have the appearance of someone who had been traveling for weeks. "Oh, these? I may have been doing some traveling in my time, but no, I was just simply on a gathering trip", Veigar responded, only partially lying.

As Teemo examined him further, he found the brown pointy hat that the stranger was wearing to be a very uncommon piece of clothing, and his eyes widened when he remembered his earlier mention of mages to Tristana. "Wait… you wouldn't happen to be one who studies the art of magic, would you?" the scout inquired.

Veigar almost let a shocked expression through, but he kept his cool and quickly recovered, realizing he could use this to his advantage. "Well, funny you should say… yes, I am a practitioner of magic. Why do you ask?"

Teemo couldn't believe it for a second. There was literally only two yordles he knew of that could use magic at all, and those talents belonged to Lulu and Veigar. Looking at this stranger who called himself Logan, he wondered how he had never heard of this particular individual before. He was clearly a yordle, though unlike any he had ever seen. In the back of his mind he even suspected something for a split second… but the thought was quickly dismissed, as there was no way this stranger could actually be Veigar. The Veigar he knew was beyond redemption or reasoning, but this stranger had a drastically different personality in contrast to the dark yordle. The cloud of suspicion left his mind as quickly as it came, as he figured the matter of the recent storm was more important to solve for the good of Bandle City.

The scout cleared his throat before asking, "Well, it would be a great deal of help if we could perhaps seek your knowledge and advice about the recent storm that hit us yesterday. Everyone in Bandle City as well as those in the forest have had a great deal of damage done to them by its effects, and we Scouts of the Mothership do recognize that the storm itself was something we'd never seen before. What do you think? If you wouldn't mind telling us, of course," Teemo added in at the end.

Veigar was hesitant at first to give any answer. Honestly, he hadn't had a chance to study it out yet, since he was more concerned about providing for himself and for Gnar. At that thought, he glanced over at the prehistoric yordle, who had since then been occupied with running circles around Tristana. She was giggling and was making a light effort to chase him around, having formed a friendship with Gnar prior. He softly smiled once again, as Teemo too looked over at his companion.

"How did you come across Gnar anyways?" Teemo inquired.

Veigar glanced back over at the scout. "Oh, I happened across him during my travels yesterday. He seemed to be on his own in the forest, and since that storm was coming in… I decided to, uh, take him in, I suppose. I wouldn't want to let someone be alone if I couldn't help it!", he said with a soft chuckle.

Teemo nodded at that, agreeing with the mage. "Well, he seems to have taken a liking to you if he's stayed with you that long. He has a tendency of wandering off after not even an hour has passed… but if he's stuck with you for a whole day already, then that's saying something."

The yordle mage smiled again at that thought. He never realized that gaining Gnar's trust meant that much. "I hope you don't mind if I continue to take care of him…? I was actually out gathering for a food source so I could keep him properly fed. I assure you that I can take care of him well enough."

The scout was skeptical at the thought of leaving Gnar in the care of a stranger. "Are you sure? And how could you procure a reliable food source out here in the forest?"

Veigar smirked, letting a little bit of his old confidence rise up for the occasion." Well… I AM quite the resourceful mage~", he replied, chuckling again.

"If you say so, I suppose", Teemo conceded. "So erm… I guess this wouldn't really be the place to discuss the storm, but would you be willing to give us your assistance?"

Veigar reminded himself that he can use this to his benefit, and thus responded, "I was actually already planning on studying that in the coming days, so perhaps I could give my input… though possibly not anytime soon, I'm afraid."

"Of course, I understand. If you can though, I encourage you to stop by Bandle City. Just tell the guardsman that Teemo requested it, and they can direct you to the right place", the scout said with a rare smile.

Veigar nodded, glad that he could turn this initial risk of being found out into an opportunity to redeem himself. He wondered if ever the day would come if he revealed who he really was… but perhaps that was a day that could wait for now. "That sounds good then! I wish you safety on your mission, as I think it's about time for me and Gnar to be headed back home", the mage insisted.

"Thank you for your time, Logan", Teemo affirmed. He motioned over to Tristana, who was still busy playing around with Gnar. He had to tap her shoulder a few times to get her attention, getting her rather annoyed as she punched his shoulder in reply. Eventually the two said their goodbyes as Gnar rejoined Veigar's side, the two parties going their separate ways.

"He seemed very strange, Teemo. You sure you can trust him?", Tristana asked.

"Hard to say, Trist. But I won't let a chance like this slide by. We can use all the help we can…" Teemo replied.

Although Tristana was occupied with Gnar the entire conversation, she had been carefully observing the stranger. That yordle who called himself Logan. She was pretty good at remembering yordle's faces, but never had she seen one such as his. That scar between his eyes. The scarred hands. The way his voice carried a light, soft humor.

It was as if she couldn't read him at all. But for some reason, she had found his presence…

Comforting. Warm. And filled with life.

* * *

Veigar and Gnar were on their way back to his mansion. He was silent for some time until he was sure that Teemo and Tristana were long gone. Then he let out a loud string of jubilating laughter, albeit not in an evil manner as was his usual habits. This laughter was happy. Vibrant. Relieved that for once in his life, two yordles who would usually have seen him as an enemy had failed to recognize him and saw him as a potential ally. A little bit of guilt did exist because of his false name he had given them, but he thought of it for the better. Maybe one day, when he had done some good for Bandle City, he could eventually reveal who he was. But that wasn't important at the moment as he released his contained laughter.

Gnar stayed beside him the whole time, seeming happy and content upon hearing the yordle mage's laughter. It made Gnar happy to see him in brighter spirits. He giggled innocently alongside him, completely unaware of who Veigar really was in his past life.

"Ahhhh… Gnar, today was an even better day than yesterday. We accomplished more than I ever thought…", Veigar said in between intakes of breath. "I've never felt so free before. The world is leaking with possibilities as to what can come in the future… and there's still much to be done. Let's hurry home, Gnar. We've got much to do tomorrow as well!" He gripped the bag filled with snowberries and held it firm.

"Shuugi!" Gnar replied in eager fashion. The two yordles picked up the pace, both wondering what the next day would entail.

* * *

Light and dark. Two of the oldest beings in the world have existed since the very beginning of time. Happiness and sadness. Joy and despair. Fire and ice. Warmth and cold. Good and evil. The Sun and the Moon. It seemed like they were destined to clash with one another for an eternity, for to them, days passed like eons. At one age to another, it seemed that one could take over and conquer the other and reign for a time, either sending the world into an age of enlightenment, or a takeover of dark times.

Yet in the end, one can never really live without the other. Shadows wouldn't form if not for the rays of sunshine peeking over the mountains day after day… and yes, indeed, even the Light would have no purpose if no Darkness existed to be purged.

So like a curse, they existed together, time after time. Waiting for the day when one young star could finally come by and make them realize the necessity of their coexistence.

A lone candle in the Dark.


	7. Chapter 6 - Falling Leaves (OLD)

It was nightfall once again. Veigar lay there in his bed under the covers, peeking out occasionally to observe the dark confines of his personal bedroom. It was a rather large room, with many bookcases, shelves, tables, and chairs to fill up each corner and every wall. Every bookcase was filled with his dark studies, which he had not touched ever since he met Gnar. He almost got startled at the noise of the chandelier rocking back and forth gently, it's metal surface reflecting the moonlight in mysterious, haunting ways. Veigar had always been use the dark magical aromas and that feeling that magic permeated the very air around him.

Now, however, he felt scared. He felt terrified. He felt alert and defensive and cautious. He hid himself under the covers once more like a child who was afraid of those age-old bedtime stories about monsters hiding in the closet. Those monsters hiding under the bed. Those monsters hiding in the dark, waiting to reach out with their claws, to reach out for his very soul and tear it from his body and shred it apart like a ravenous creature hungry for its meal of leftover bread crumbs. Veigar, who once called himself a creature of the dark, whom was nurtured and formed by it, was instead the victim who was at the mercy of those very same creatures.

Those demons.

At the corner of his eye, Veigar caught movement of those shadows once again, taunting him, testing his limits, reaching out with their tendrils with the intent of dragging him back to that dark. Sweat formed across Veigar's forehead, his anxiety and stress reaching an all time high that was extraordinarily unhealthy, rising up in a crescendo that overwhelmed him to the breaking point.

He cried out in foreshadowing agony as he sat up in bed with frantic movements, waving his hand in an attempt to ward off those shadows. A light suddenly formed at the palm of his outstretched, flailing hand, suddenly growing in strength until it exploded in swelling power, unleashing rays of light that filled up the entirety of his room, banishing those demons of Darkness. They fled into the cracks in the walls, fleeing to their homeland of the Void, even more afraid of the Light than Veigar was of them.

A ball of light remained floating an inch from Veigar's palm, illuminating the room once more and keeping the shadows at bay. He remained there sitting upright on his bed, breathing and gasping heavily in exertion. He wasn't even sure why he felt even more exhausted all of a sudden, but perhaps he would figure that out later. He lowered his outstretched arm and examined the luminous magical object that he held in his hand. It seemed that in his sudden panic, he had subconsciously cast some sort of white magic, something he had never thought himself possible of. He clenched gently onto the orb, feeling a physical round-shaped surface to the ball of light. This was more than just a magical orb of light. He held onto it firm as he swung himself out of bed, and trudged over to the other side of his room towards a closet.

He swung open the closet's wooden doors with his free hand, holding out the light orb and explored the confines of the closet. He rummaged through its contents, throwing out random articles of dusty clothing, books, scrolls, and old wands. He paused once he saw what looked like a wooden walking stick poking out of a chest.

He pulled on it, gently freeing it of its prison and revealing its full length. It was an plain old wooden staff that he had used in his old days. Really nothing more than a walking stick was its purpose back then, but his eyes were at the tip, where a crevice existed. A round-shaped dent in the middle of the staff's head, where he placed the luminous orb now. He found that it conveniently fit right into it. Veigar drew upon more of his magic and laced it around the light orb and the staff, fusing them together. He then examined his handiwork, feeling the weight of his make-shift staff.

Satisfied with his work, he took it with him to the workbench and laid it upon its metal surface, intent on studying the luminous object he had created. It seemed to be created purely with magic, but it wouldn't dissipate. It remained as a physical object that seemed to contain some innate energy, as he examined the contents and found a whirlpool of magic flowing around in endless harmony, which released the constant illumination he now saw. He gripped the staff and experimentally harnessed the energy, drawing on it and filling himself up with its power. He felt reinvigorated once again, and observed how the orb of light now lost its luminosity, but still remained now as a white, pearly orb resting on the head of the staff.

Veigar finally realized what it was. Seemingly in his panic, he had harnessed the magic of his very soul and used a very long and forgotten kind of magic. The orb itself was literally a fragment of his soul, born and animated into a physical object. He had fused it onto an old staff and basically created another magic catalyst of which he could cast spells with. Considering he had cast aside his other staff, which was a catalyst for dark and dangerous magics, he would possibly need a new staff to fulfill his needs now. This new, impromptu staff of Light would suit him perfectly.

He found himself tired once more, considering it was literally still midnight, and his rude awakening had disrupted his sleep once again. However, he found the grip on this new staff very comforting, and felt he could probably go to sleep without struggle. The yordle yawned once more, trudging back to his bed. He leaned the staff against his bedside table and crawled back in under the covers. Veigar got comfortable once more and closed his eyes.

Sleep overtook him quickly, and when the shadows returned later in the night, they found it impossible to rouse or even threaten him ever again.

* * *

Those familiar rays of light seeped through the window curtains, tickling the insides of Veigar's room once more. He awoke with a soft stir, opening his eyes to the new day. Only this time, Veigar's mind was at peace. No darkness remained anymore. He sat up again on his bed and stretched out his arms, yawning quite loudly. The yordle rubbed his eyes and glanced over his side, observing that the newly-made staff was still there. It was.

He slipped out of bed once again, stumbling sleepily over to his closet again and locating his morning robes. He slipped them on, gripped firm onto his new staff, and exited his room.

Veigar quietly walked down the hall to the next room, gently pushing the door ajar and peeking inside at its lone occupant. He observed Gnar was still gently asleep, snuggled firmly into the depths of the bed sheets. He didn't seem to be waking up for another hour at least, Veigar observed. He closed the door and left so as to not wake him up.

He went downstairs towards his kitchen, ready to set to work on his first objective. The yordle opened the refrigerator, extracting a few of those snowberries he had gathered the previous day. Pouring himself some water in a cup, he sat down at the table and set himself to his meal. He wanted to study the properties of these Freljordian berries, and discover what nutrients they contained. He gently grabbed one, experimentally squeezing and feeling it's cold, smooth texture. Veigar squeezed it with increasing intensity until it finally cracked open, spilling some of its juices onto the plate. He noted how very cold the inside of the berry was compared to its skin. The yordle sniffed it, licked it experimentally, tasting that familiar tart test which shocked his taste buds once more. Then he popped it into his mouth and crunched down.

Even though he had already tasted how tarty it was the day before, he was still not prepared for it. He squinted his eyes and almost winced at its overwhelming taste, slowly crunching down on the berry as the tart slowly abated and filled up his mouth with pure, ecstatic sweetness. He felt a cool, freezing kind of energy seep into his veins as he swallowed the berry, feeling invigorated once more.

 _Holy stars_ , Veigar thought. This snowberry was ridiculous. It was like an exotic fruit. So exotic that it was probably stupid expensive to get one's paws on. It seemed to contain ample nutrients too, along with a shock that was more than enough to wake someone up for the new day. He continued to chow down on the rest of the berries, enjoying his exotic meal and finishing it off with a glass of water. He let out a long sigh of relief and satisfaction once he was finished.

Having finished the sweet and tarty breakfast, he returned to his fridge and collected more of those addicting berries (possibly to snack on some more), intent on extracting their seeds as well. He intended to grow these very same snowberries in his freakin' backyard. The former Veigar would probably call him crazy for thinking of doing so, but this new him was filled with wondrous ideas, and nothing was about to stop him.

He gathered up the seeds into a pouch and stored them once again. Veigar then walked towards the back door and opened it, exiting the kitchen into his backyard. It was still cloudy outside, the sun nowhere to be seen. The yordle visibly winced when he saw the state of his garden. Dead plants and herbs jutted out of rough-looking mud, weeds infested everywhere, and larvae appeared to be running rampant. Veigar sighed when he realized that magic wasn't going to help him much here, and so returned inside for awhile only to return suited up in clothing fit for gardening, and set upon his task of "cleansing" his backyard.

An hour later, after only taking care of about half of the weed infestation, he heard the door open behind him. Veigar glanced over his shoulder and saw Gnar standing there in the doorway, sleeping rubbing his eyes as well as he gazed over at the dark-furred yordle quizzically.

"Ah…. ahangaa …?" Gnar sleepily blurted out. Veigar smiled, halting in his long labor, standing up and walking over to the prehistoric yordle. He pulled off his muddy gloves and pat Gnar on the head, eliciting a purr out of the critter. He took Gnar back inside and extracted the remaining snowberries, feeding them to the eager young yordle. After a while, Gnar joined Veigar outside and even tried helping him a bit during his arduous gardening task.

Hours went on, the cloudy weather persisting through all efforts. It would be past midday when Veigar finally finished cleaning out the garden of unwanted pests. He stood back for a bit, sweating and exhausted from the effort. No weeds remained, no dead plants jutted out from the dirt, and all larvae had been removed from the soil. Unfortunately, he was not done, as he had to set about actually planting the snowberry seeds and watering them. This task would end up taking another hour out of the day.

Finally, Veigar was finished. He let out a giddy smile as he examined his handiwork once more. It would take a few days for him to see if his efforts were rewarded. Gnar sat on the ground beside him, letting out happy growls at Veigar's joyous behavior. The two set back inside, Veigar going to take a quick shower to wash off all the dirt that had accumulated on his furry body.

What a work filled day. Never had Veigar felt so productive before, particularly without the use of his magic. But his day would not be over just yet.

* * *

The two yordles now resided within Veigar's library, hidden away among the long hallways leading to the third floor of his mansion. Gnar sat on one of the chairs, wide eyes glancing about the endless, towering bookcases that seemed to litter the huge room. Veigar himself sat at a study desk, using his new staff to produce the light necessary for him to read.

His goal was now to study the unusual weather forces that was assaulting the land. He would go to the window every now and then to observe the clouds, studying the weather pattern. Veigar found no record of a storm like this. Not for a long time. The dark-furred yordle found that this weather seemed to be originating from a location in Valoran. From where exactly, he was not certain. All he knew was that this location had to be found and studied further. Veigar himself would have to head to this origin in order to solve the mystery of this storm.

That meant a few things, however. He would be out and about, traveling. Although teleporting and stuff was easy for him, there were some things he needed adequate traveling supplies in order to do so with ease. Teleporting took a lot of energy out of him, and teleporting outside of the lands of Bandle was exceedingly risky. It seemed like it wasn't going to even be possible in his current situation. Then he remembered the events that transpired yesterday. Teemo's offer to come to Bandle City.

Oh boy. Yes indeed, he could head over to Bandle City. He could discuss these findings with Teemo. Could discuss and propose a sort of expedition to find the source of this storm. Teemo and his scouts have more than enough supplies necessary to support such an expedition.

But Veigar hesitated. This would mean him being around other yordles. Pretty much all of whom shunned him. Well, of course, if Teemo and Tristana didn't recognize him, then yes, maybe he wasn't in so much danger after all. But the sheer amount of risk was still present. If anyone of them were to recognize him…

He shook his head. No. There wasn't a choice about this. He needed their help. They needed his help. He would have to push past his hesitation and make a choice. This storm was the cause of many problems for all yordles of Bandle City. If he could solve this problem of this storm, and solve the problems of everyone…

Maybe Veigar could finally be redeemed.

That didn't mean that Veigar wasn't worried in the slightest, however. Oh, not at all.

"This is not going to be such a drag in a million ways possible, Gnar."

Veigar must have said this to the young prehistoric yordle like ten times by now as they made their way from the library and stood now by the front door of his mansion. The mage had been wondering if he could afford to leave Gnar all by himself at his home, but thought better of it. Mayhap if he brought the little one along, he'd have an easier time becoming friendly with the locals at Bandle City.

It may still be rough, however, as Veigar made very blatantly obvious to Gnar, who seemed to be just nodding his head with a smile. Gnar himself was just eager to get out of the big spooky house that belonged to the once-dark mage.

They both finally exited the mansion after what seemed like forever (to Gnar anyways), and Veigar made sure to check all of their belongings was in check. He brought the remaining amount of his money in a pouch as well as some berries for a snack if need be, figuring that Teemo and company may be kind enough to treat them to food as well.

He did not intend to travel the entire way on foot, as Bandle City was quite distant, but he also did not intend to be rude and teleport directly into the city. He knew a location on the main road that was close to the front gates of Bandle, and focused on that location now. He beckoned Gnar over, whom took hold of his outstretched hand and clung tightly onto the yordle mage. Veigar closed his eyes and began to focus, channeling his mana and casting the teleportation spell. Circle of magic surrounded the pair, whirling around them in increasing energy and flaring in a beautiful display of light rays, causing the two to blend in with the luminous intensity and seem to vanish right into thin air. Nothing remained, and everything was silent save for the trees around, which had been rustled by the display of magic and shook off their leaves. Tree leaves spun around in a tornado of left over energy, before slowly spinning and floating softly to the ground.

Two leaves in particular, one an orange hue, and the other, a slightly tattered and dark shade of black, spun around closely to one another. They both drifted closer together, landing ever so gently onto the ground with the tips touching one another. Almost clinging onto each other as if one could not live without the other, never to let go, and promising to always stay together. Always be there for the other, never to let go.

Always.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey there, those of you who have decided to stick around this long. I really appreciate the reviews you leave more than you realize, and not just for a little number that pops up among the numbers of words, follows, favorites, and all the likes.**

 **Your words themselves inspire me, and can also very well influence how this story goes in some cases. I know I've said that I would make chapters longer as well, which is why I stopped at this particular point, because Veigar is about to come very uncomfortably close to a lot of yordles ;) Going to be tons of interaction with other characters... IF, of course, that is what you would like to see!**

 **So please, let me know what you think! I'll try my best from here on to make this story as entertaining for you lot as possible.**

 **Again, thank you for reading! I hope you all have a wonderful day :3**


	8. Chapter 7 - Bandle City (OLD)

A rush of wind swirled around, gradually increasing in intensity as a flash of light appeared in the middle of the dirt road, sending dust flying in all directions. The light faded slowly away, and the air calmed once again as two yordles were revealed, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. They both gathered themselves, with the younger of the pair having never experienced teleportation before. The orange furred yordle examined his new surroundings in awe, as the other let out a sigh of relief from the success of his magic.

Veigar checked himself to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He wore his brown robes and hat once again, though he had dusted and cleaned them this time so as to not appear so rugged. His new staff felt warm in his hand, and his pouch of belongings, containing notes, money, and food supplies was in order. He then gazed around, examining the familiar surroundings. They were probably only a few minutes walk away from Bandle City, a place he had not visited on peaceful terms in many years…

The mage was distracted from his thoughts at the feeling of Gnar tugging on his robes, turning his gaze down upon the little yordle. Despite Gnar's newfound experience of teleporting, which would leave most newcomers rather disoriented and possibly nauseated, the young yordle was instead taking it in full stride, still as eager as ever to travel alongside his treasured friend.

"Shagdovalaa!" the youngling exclaimed, cutely raising his arms in the air in a display of what Veigar perceived as an attempt to appear fierce. Gnar never failed to make Veigar smile, something he enjoyed doing more often nowadays.

"You sure seem to enjoy magic, don't you Gnar? Perhaps sometime I should show you what fireworks are like…" Veigar mused. He teasingly scratched one of Gnar's flappy ears, causing the young yordle to yelp lightly in pleasure.

"Veigaaa!" Gnar almost shouted at the top of his lungs. That caused Veigar's eyes to go wide, as he had never heard Gnar say anything other than his own ancient language. Could the little one be capable of learning if Veigar took if upon himself to teach him?

Gnar didn't seem to be finished yet, as he continued to exclaim, "Veigaaa, Vei Veiii!" Veigar started to worriedly look around as he gently put his hand to Gnar's lips, trying to shush him. "Be careful, Gnar, I would rather you not say that name while we are around others…!" the yordle mage tried to explain. Gnar, not really understanding what Veigar was worried about, instead eagerly began to lick the mage's hand, startling the living stardust out of him and eventually giving him a laughing fit. Gnar's innocence would never change, it seemed, but that only made Veigar smile even more.

"Alright Gnar, please calm down… we got to head into Bandle soon", Veigar stated to the eager youngling. After Gnar's eagerness was expended, the pair finally began their walk towards the city itself.

It was still cloudy and overcast, the dark puffs of threatening sky looming over them, barely visible past the forest canopy. It only took a couple of minutes of walking before the pair started to see other yordles traveling upon the same road. Veigar at first felt nervous about being seen by others, his old fear of being recognized and shunned remained in the back of his mind. But no yordles looked their way. The only ones that did were not looking at Veigar, but rather at Gnar, as most were able to recognize those orange furs and that bushy tail anywhere in Valoran. Some of them waved in greeting to the young yordle, to which Gnar responded eagerly in kind. They only gave passing glances to Gnar's companion, who wore those brown robes and that funny pointed hat. At least Veigar was glad that none directly addressed him with their greeting, however how would occasionally nod at them so as to not appear antisocial.

They soon saw Bandle City come into view. Those tall (for a yordle, anyways) walls surrounded the peaceful city, which really was separated from the rest of Valoran as well by a range of mountains. Bandle City sat near the southeastern edge of the continent, smack in the middle of a lush forest. Within its walls was a utopia maintained by its yordle residents. While the yordles may be small, their military was nothing to laugh at, and they could easily hold their own even against the mighty forces of the other city states, like Demacia and Noxus. They were, however, a peaceful race, and thus withheld itself from participating in that grudge-filled conflict.

Veigar turned his gaze forward towards the gates which lead into the heart of the city. There was significantly more yordles traveling the road now, some entering the city and some leaving. Veigar actually didn't remember there being **this** many denizens traveling, but then again, that recent storm probably was the cause of it. Some of the travelers appeared weary and somewhat beaten, probably having either had their homes and belongings damaged.

As Veigar and Gnar approached the gates, he observed a couple of guards standing vigilant at the entrance, scanning the small crowd as yordles passed through. As the pair continued forward and got close enough, Veigar put his hand on his hat and tipped it in the direction of one of the guards, acknowledging him. The guard bowed his head ever so slightly in response, glancing to Veigar's side and recognizing Gnar.

"Hold right there, if you don't mind", the guard started, causing Veigar's heart to skip a beat. "By what chance are you traveling with this young yordle here?" The yordle guard pointed a little rudely at Gnar, causing the youngling to appear a little affronted.

Veigar nervously cleared his throat. " _Ahem_ … I am just a weary traveler visiting the city on personal business. Gnar here is a friend of mine-"

"Friend of yours, eh?" the guard rudely interrupted. "I'll have you know that some of us guards have had to keep a close eye on this fella, in case he ever gets upset… I may have to prevent you two from entering the city!"

"W-What?" the yordle mage coughed in despair. He hadn't come all this way just to be stopped from coming in. He had also never felt so offended that someone as innocent as Gnar was being watched by the authorities. Veigar didn't want to make a scene, however, and felt powerless as to what to do in this situation. In the very back of his mind, something scolded him. Something dark.

Scolded him for being so weak.

So useless.

You're going to let this one random guard stop you?

You, who are capable of so much more!

"What's going on here?"

Veigar snapped out of his sudden trance at the familiar female voice. He along with Gnar and the guard glanced over and saw Tristana standing there, looking quite dangerously curious about the hold up that was happening at the gates.

Tristana had her eyes directly on the guard. Her stare appeared casual, but there was something fiery hidden in the depths of her eyes, and the guard began to sweat nervously for seemingly no reason. "Is there something wrong here, scout?" the she yordle inquired with a calm and direct tone.

"N-Nothing, nothing at all ma'am! I was just-"

"Good!" Tristana said, cutting off the guard with a wide smile. "Carry on then~."

Veigar gazed over at the Bandle gunner with a newfound respect, and, quite frankly, never wanted to get on her bad side EVER. He gently tugged Gnar and left the flustered guard standing by himself, joining Tristana's side as the three headed onward into the city.

The yordle mage coughed nervously. "Hey… thanks for that", he said sheepishly, to which Tristana waved off with her trademark smile.

"Ehh, don't mention it. Some guards get frisky nowadays, what with all the recent going ons", she said with a sigh. "I guess you can't blame them, y'know?"

Veigar nodded in concurrence. He frowned again, glancing down at the ground before them as they walked beside one another. Tristana watched him, still immensely curious as to who this strange individual was. She remembered faces really well. She could recognize most of the yordles in Bandle land, and it had helped her in many situations in her line of duty. But this yordle she could not place.

"Logan, you said your name was?"

The mage lifted his head up and turned in her direction. "Yes, that's me. And you are Tristana? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We didn't get to chat much during our last encounter." He offered his hand towards her politely.

Tristana grasped the outstretched hand and shook it firmly, once again noting how very gnarled and beaten up his hand looked. Except this time she not only observed it, but felt it. The hand she shook seemed so… frail. Broken. Fragile. She felt like she had to be gentle with the simple handshake, but the dark furred yordle shook with a firm confidence that she wasn't used to with a stranger.

"Ah, well yes… I guess Gnar must have been occupying me that whole time, hehe!" she said with a giggle. "I just let Teemo do the talking when we are on an assignment like that, anyways. He needs to get out and socialize more!"

Gnar's ears wriggled back and forth at the mention of his name. It seemed he had been hiding behind Veigar this whole time, seeming a little upset at the ordeal with the guard. He ran forward now and dashed in front of Tristana, leaping up in the air and bouncing up and down off the ground in greeting, shouting "Ahangaa!"

Tristana giggled again at the young one's endless bursts of energy, and Veigar gave that soft smile of his. The three continued walking together further into the bustling yordle city. The mage took this as an opportunity to become reacquainted with his old home. He gazed around, admiring the familiar yordle architecture of the buildings. Observed it's citizens going about their lives, family and friends chatting about, and some yordle children running about and playing their games. They passed by the market, rich with individuals trading their craft, which consisted of various goods such as food, clothing, art, and more.

"Where are you from anyways, Logan?" Tristana asked out of nowhere, curious to learn more about this mage. Veigar seemed taken aback by the question, not really sure how to respond. He considered his options, which weren't very many, so he decided to basically wing it with his answers.

"Oh… well… like most yordles, Bandle was my home, and it remains my birthplace. I don't quite remember my family, though, other than that we traveled frequently."

Tristana glanced at him again, her curiosity and need to sate it only growing. "You don't remember much?" she pressed.

The yordle mage shook his head apologetically.

She frowned, but decided to drop that part, at least for now. "Yet, you seem to be an experienced traveler, especially if you've been without your family all this time. Even beyond that, you mentioned to Teemo that you actually practice magic?" Tristana almost asked that last question with an almost dreamy wonder, not unlike an eager child wanting to hear stories of magic.

Veigar gave a lighthearted chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Yes, I do. I am quite experienced in the magical arts as well", he said with only a slight hint of pride. He decided to show himself off a bit as he took his staff firmly into his hand, channeling enough of his mana into it so that the pearly white orb on the tip begins to glow softly. Tristana and Gnar both simultaneously reacted with wide eyes at the sudden display. Even some nearby yordles noticed it, and some "oohs" and "ahhs" were heard in rather comedic fashion.

"Wow, so it really is true! I'll be honest when I say I had my doubts about it… though maybe sometime during your visit to Bandle City you could show off more for us", Tristana said with a grin, glancing about at the curious spectators around them. "I'm sure some of the people around here would love to see it as well!"

"Oh, but of course. I wouldn't mind!" the mage replied in affirmation, becoming only slightly shy at the sudden attention around them.

They became lost in conversation with Gnar trailing slightly behind them, whom started to become a little unnoticed by his companions as they toured further into the city. Gnar's ears drooped ever so subtly as he began to feel something he hadn't felt before. Poor Gnar began to feel a little jealous.

Soon, the three of them stopped in front of the building that belonged to the major of the city. Tristana felt that she at least had gotten somewhere in learning about this new face that called himself "Logan", but she realized that further prying would have to wait for another time, as there was a duty and purpose for his being here.

"Well, this is where the authorities reside. Inside, Teemo and other scouts are discussing the recent storm, and I believe they would appreciate your presence during some of the talks", Tristana explained to the mage. "If you'd like to head inside now and at least become familiar with them, now's your chance. It is starting to get dark soon, so hurry up, will ya?" she ended with another one of her trademark smiles.

Veigar nodded and bowed his head in thanks. "I hope to be seeing you again? It was very pleasant to chat with you!" he said with utmost politeness. Tristana actually felt herself getting a little red in the cheeks from how kind he was.

"Of course! Also, umm… it won't take you very long, but you should probably leave Gnar with me while you are inside. And don't worry, it's not because it's Gnar, but more so because they don't want to let any citizens inside unless its official business. He'll be safe with me!" Tristana promised to him.

Veigar smiled, feeling that he could indeed trust Tristana. He glanced over at Gnar, whom was beside the she yordle, and immediately noticed how very different the young yordle was acting. Gnar's ears appeared lower than usual, and seemed to be less energetic. A pang of guilt shivered down the mage's spine as he felt like maybe he had forgotten about his yordle companion this whole time.

He walked back towards Gnar and surprised the prehistoric yordle by placing his hand on his head, giving an affectionate pat and scratching his ears. Gnar gazed up at Veigar with those charcoal eyes, staring into the mage's yellow eyes with that eagerness once more.

"Hwa! Vimagaa!" Gnar exclaimed, brightening up. He reached with his orange furred hands and clung onto the dark furred one which pressed gently upon his head. Gnar seemed to not want Veigar to leave him again.

Veigar sensed this, and felt another pang of guilt, but remained firm. "Don't worry Gnar… I won't be gone for that long! And you have Tristana here with you to look after. I promise I'll be back…"

With that, he gave Gnar's hand a quick squeeze and turned away to head inside the mayor's building. He felt the prehistoric yordle's eyes on his back, and didn't stop feeling that charcoal gaze until he closed the doors behind him, temporarily enclosing him in darkness once again.

* * *

Gnar felt sad. Sad and perhaps a little stressed. He never wanted Veigar to go. While his time in Bandle had made him lots of new friends, none of them had stuck by his side and done as much for him as Vei did. Gnar watched the mage's back until Veigar disappeared behind the doors of the building, and almost made a move to chase him down, already missing that warm hand on his head, petting him and scratching him. He already missed that feeling.

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. Although it wasn't Veigar's, it was still from one of his friends. The she yordle.

"Hey, Gnar, it's okay. I'm here too!" she reassured him. "You really seem to be close to Logan, don't you?"

Gnar turned his wide eyed gaze up at his friend. He was still confused by the name "Logan", as that wasn't the name of the mage. But earlier, before they both entered Bandle, he remembered Veigar trying to hush him about it for a secretive reason. He deemed that it must be important for some reason, and decided to go along with it and not mention Veigar's name.

"Vrooboo… kshaaa!" Gnar uttered a little harshly (well, not that his ancient language wasn't already harsh sounding), merely expressing his discomfort. Tristana seemed to understand that discomfort, and thought of how best to cheer the young one up.

"Well, why don't you just stick with me, Gnar? I'm sure we can find something to do around the city while we wait for him to finish!" Tristana said with an enthusiastic grin, scratching one of Gnar's ears and causing him to purr. That always felt good for Gnar, no matter who did it. He already felt cheered up at least a little by his friend.

Both of them were interrupted then by the sound of someone softly muttering curses under his breath. They both turned to the new arrival who trudged aimlessly in their direction. This newcomer sported notable blue fur, with wide, pointy ears and a mohawk upon his head. His outfit consisted of that which was commonly used by mechanics, and had an almost dirty and oily appearance to match the craft. He uttered another profanity that clearly offended Tristana, causing her to clear her throat.

"Excuse me, Rumble, but you should watch your dirty mouth when you are around young ones!"

Rumble was shocked out of his reverie at the sound of that familiar voice, having no idea where he was wandering off to. He turned his gaze over to Tristana, rather flustered in his cheeks.

"Whoa, don't scare me like that, Trist! I was just… really deep in thought, okay?" he muttered again, embarrassed at being told something like that by her of all people. "Who's even the young one around here?"

The mechanic turned his attention to Tristana's companion, recognizing Gnar immediately. "Oh. Hey, Gnar." he said casually.

Gnar beamed at Rumble brightly, wagging his bushy tail around behind him, not even understanding what profanity was anyways.

"That's all you are going to say to him, Rumble? Aren't you going to apologize?" she scolded him, albeit more teasingly at this point, as she gave his shoulder a gentle push.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sorry Gnar, blah blah, shubunaffa… or whatever it was that he said", Rumble responded in an attempt at humor, being rewarded with a swift punch to his shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. "Owww, that's gonna bruise me, Tristy!"

"Sure it will, tough guy", she replied with her trademark smile once again. Rumble may have felt a blush rise in his blue furred cheeks as he scratched the back of his head and massaged his slightly bruised shoulder.

Gnar watched this exchange between the two, letting out a giggle at how Tristana was basically bullying Rumble in revenge. Gnar, however, was also getting lost in thought, worried about Veigar. He gazed longingly in the direction of the building which Veigar disappeared within. Although the dark furred yordle had assured him he wouldn't take long, Gnar felt impatient. It was all he could do to just not go after him, if just to be by his side again. He paid no mind to the conversation between the other two yordles.

"So what are you muttering about anyways, Rumble?" Tristana inquired.

Rumble twiddled his fingers about, trying to hide a little embarrassment. "I, uhh… lost one of my best wrenches."

"Lost?" Tristana raised an eyebrow.

The blue yordle averted his gaze. "Well, maybe stolen would be more accurate."

She raised the other eyebrow. "Who could've stolen it? Who would want a dirty wrench anyways? Not many people here in Bandle who'd want to mess with mechanic's work anyways."

"Well, I don't know… that's why I'm out and about looking!" Rumble shot back exasperatedly. Tristana shot another punch towards his shoulder, causing him to wince and flinch, although this time it was a playfully soft punch.

"While you are busy doing that, I was just helping a new visitor on some official business. Y'know, with the storm and all? Not like you'd know since you're inside all day working on that mech", she added in at the end trying to tease him further.

"It's not like I live under a rock! … Or a bunch of random gadgets, scrap metal, or gizmos…" he responded with a sigh. "What new visitor?"

"He's the most curious fellow, now that you ask. He happens to also be a mage, and goes by the name of Logan. Me and Teemo ran into him during one of our assignments…"

Their conversation drifted off into random drabble as Gnar continued to stare at the building of which Veigar now resided in. Many minutes seemed to pass, with Rumble and Tristana talking about this and that, stuff that was meaningless to the prehistoric yordle. He sat on his haunches and curled his tail around himself, set on waiting for the return of his friend.

After what seemed like forever (especially with Rumble and Tristana bickering at eachother), Gnar's ears pricked at the sound of the door opening. His eyes went wide as he observed two yordles leaving the major's building. He identified the first one as the yordle scout Teemo, and a big smile lifted his lips as Gnar recognized the other to be Veigar. Gnar shot forward into a full on dash, sprinting on all fours towards his friend he so desperately needed.

Veigar was absently conversing with the scout about when the next meeting would be when an orange ball of fur leaped into the air before him, catching his eye. He had little time to prepare as Gnar crashed into his chest, sending them both to the ground and tumbling about for a little bit until finally coming to a stop, with Veigar landing on his back with Gnar atop him. His hat had been knocked off in the crash landing, leaving his dark furred ears exposed. He barely had time to even make an "oomph!" noise from the sudden attack when Gnar began to fervently nuzzle his cheeks against his, releasing loud and audible purrs at being reunited with his friend.

"W-Whoa, Gnar, are you okay…?" Veigar nervously asked, trying to rub his hands about Gnar's head and petting him, trying to calm him down.

Tristana and Rumble completely missed what had happened and were looking over at the two on the ground confused. Teemo seemed to have seen a ghost that had orange hues until he realized that it was Gnar that literally kidnapped the mage from his side. The three of them rushed over to help the mage, until they got closer and realized that Gnar was just being his innocent self again, and wasn't actually attacking the poor mage. Tristana, of course, realized that the yordle mage wasn't wearing his hat, and took the opportunity to observe the rest of his facial features as he stood up, picking Gnar gently off him and setting him down. She noted how his yordle ears were similarly gnarled and held a battered appearance, similar to how his hands were. What had this mage gone through in his life to acquire such injuries?

Gnar didn't intend to stop his warm assault, and clung firmly onto Veigar's waist. Perhaps none of the others would really understand it, but Gnar was just happy to be in the mage's presence. Veigar himself couldn't really understand what he had done to earn such loyalty from the youngling, though he wondered if perhaps Gnar saw him as some sort of caretaker, since he did take him in when no one else would.

Gnar didn't care what the others thought. Nothing else mattered in that moment to him. He himself probably wasn't sure why he felt this way, but Gnar acted more on instinct than anything else. What he did feel was a need to protect those that he deeply cared about, so perhaps Veigar was one who fit into that category.

Teemo joined Veigar's side again, quite curious as he asked, "Gnar really does seem to like you a lot, doesn't he? What exactly did you do for him when you found him?"

The mage gave off a soft shrug. "All I did was take him in so he wouldn't be left alone under the storm… that's really it, I promise", he responded sheepishly.

"Well, it's just unusual", the scout replied. "The people here in Bandle were generally nice to Gnar and took care of him for a bit, though I will admit that no one was willing to take him in and go that far. Perhaps you went out of your way for him when you didn't realize it."

Gnar meanwhile was reaching for the mage's hand, tugging at his robe sleeves to get his attention. Veigar hesitated at first, perhaps feeling a little timid himself because of the others watching him, but he gave in and let the youngling take hold of his hand and clenched firmly. As per usual, Veigar couldn't resist smiling as he gently squeezed and played with Gnar's fingers, eliciting more purrs out of him as he swung his tail back and forth, enjoying the warmth of Veigar's furry hands. "Ganaloo, mo…", Gnar uttered with a hint of contentedness. This kind display from the mage made Teemo, Tristana, and even Rumble somehow feel warm on the inside, and all truly wondered at this strange bond that was shared between the two yordles.

Tristana cleared her throat a bit, hesitant to interrupt anything as she proclaimed, "Well, I don't know about any of you, but I'm getting rather hungry! Anyone care to stop by the Bandle Inn for something to eat?"

Everyone's ears perked up at the thought of food, particularly Gnar, who's furry tummy could be heard rumbling in hunger, causing everyone to laugh at the cuteness of the youngling, even managing to draw out a blush in Gnar's bushy cheeks.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Whoo, this chapter was a little longer than the others! Still thinking about ways to expand on the other characters as well, but I'm content with this for now. What do you all think? :3**

 **As always, I hope life is treating you all well!**


	9. Chapter 8 - Thundering Emotions (OLD)

Veigar watched as his orange furred companion tore into a piece of bread like the end of the world was coming tomorrow. He watched as crumbs flew everywhere, some even batting gently against his face, causing him to wrinkle his nose in amusement. The mage supposed that Gnar may have been a little hungry following all that excitement from earlier, along with the time it took them to travel to Bandle City in the first place.

The pair sat now at a table in a place called the Bandle Inn. Tristana and Teemo had joined their company, since Rumble had muttered something about looking for something that was stolen from him, and would not dine with them for that reason. Veigar hadn't had an opportunity to actually speak to the mechanic, but he figured another chance would come. He didn't know how long he planned to stay in Bandle, but he rather enjoyed the social environment, and realized it was an amazing opportunity to become familiar and friendly with everyone again.

Tristana had bragged that the Bandle Inn had the best seasoned bread in Valoran, made only with the best ingredients and made by the best cook. It even had dipping sauce to match, and could be seconded by other tasty dishes. Her words were enough to elicit a rumble from Veigar's own belly, and gave in to the suggestion to eat there. The mage offered to pay for his own food, but the Bandle gunner and scout insisted otherwise, since they were guests to the city.

Funny enough, however, as they headed towards the Bandle Inn from the mayor's office, it had actually started to rain again, causing them to quicken their pace in hopes to avoid the impending storm once again. Unfortunately, they weren't so lucky, as all of them had become mildly soaked by the downpour, especially Gnar, who was especially soaked more than the others due to his extravagant fur coat. That was why they chose a table that was nearest to the fireplace, drying themselves off as the innkeeper delivered their feast to them.

Veigar had hung up his brown robe on the coat hanger next to the fireplace so that it could dry off, along with his hat. He wore a long-sleeve undershirt beneath his robe, which still revealed how surprisingly skinny he was. The mage wasn't "to-the-bone" skinny, but it was enough to appear physically unfit. When Tristana had seen it at first, she was actually really worried, and was actually bugging him about whether he was physically healthy and all, but Veigar reassured her that he was fine. It didn't stop her from buying him a little more food than usual in hopes of perhaps stuffing him with sustenance so that he wouldn't appear unhealthy with his weight. The amount of care that she had put into it had made the mage feel warm on the inside, somehow even warmer than the fireplace they all sat in close proximity to. Just the feeling of someone he was becoming friendly with for only a day was already showing that amount of kindness…

It was a feeling he cherished. Friendship.

He had missed it so much.

"So how's the food, Logan? You enjoying yourself?", Tristana said with a slight smirk, considering that the mage was, in fact, enjoying his food and semi-stuffing his mouth with food. It wasn't his fault that the food was so damn good. Especially that bread. The seasoning and the butter on it… it made him shiver in contentment, his taste buds tasting things he never thought possible. He made a funny face at the she yordle, since he couldn't really talk with his mouth full, causing her to giggle at how silly he looked.

Teemo watched the others, only slightly picking at his food, considering he got a little upset at how his wet fur made him feel uncomfortable. He tried to rush the others before the storm came again, but of course, would they listen? No, of course not. He didn't complain out loud, though, considering how amusing it was to watch Logan and Gnar eat their food with somewhat ravenous abandon. The scout sat beside Tristana, who was a lot more eager to take some yummy bites out of Bandle Inn's trademark butter bread, trying not to choke on the food as she chuckled occasionally from watching the funny pair.

Gnar had never really eaten bread before, as he had sort of investigated this plate of food that was placed before him. He tore it open with his hands, experimentally sniffing it and licking the seasoning and getting a taste of the butter. Once his tongue's taste buds got a whiff of that butter, however, his eyes had went wide at the surprisingly good taste. That first bite of his into the bread was the first of many, as he pretty much tore into the bread with his teeth, not really having a concept of table manners as he gorged himself with new tastes. Not that the others minded, of course. He was really young, after all, and even the innkeeper, who was hesitant at first to serve Gnar of all yordles, was happy to see how much his trademark butter bread was thoroughly enjoyed by the youngling.

As they got near the end of their feast, Veigar, with a full and pleased stomach, remembered himself and the purpose for his visit. He had to recover from a minor food coma for a couple of minutes, making Tristana giggle some more, before he finally piped up and said, "When are we going to make plans about the storm, anyways?"

Teemo finished a small bite he had taken and swallowed before he responded, "Well, since you have arrived, we figured that we could have our first major discussion tomorrow in the major's office, since we wanted to include him as well. However, I did want to ask you if there was anything you found out so that we can come prepared. I'd prefer to finish the talk as quickly as possible so we can make our first move immediately afterwards."

Veigar nodded in understanding of Teemo's logic, glancing over to the side to see Gnar curled up on the floor and snuggling against his own tail, bathing himself in the warmth of the fireplace, having already finished his meal. The youngling was already taking a nap, purring at some dream he was having at that very moment.

Veigar turned his attention back to the scout. "Well, there is only one significant thing I theorized about", he started.

Tristana and Teemo turned their full attention to his words as he continued, "I studied weather patterns and also studied history of weather patterns as was documented by mages before me who once harnessed the weather for power. A storm like this is not a natural cause. There's no way it can be. From what I delved, it's actually originating from a remote location somewhere in Valoran. I couldn't study the weather patterns enough, however, because I believe we will need a high vantage point to properly locate the origin."

The other two yordles glanced at each other, before Tristana asked, "High vantage point? Like where?"

Veigar frowned a bit as he thought for a moment. "Well… not only do we need a decent vantage point, but we also need some advanced technology to properly study it. And the only place with both of those things…"

"Is Piltover?" Tristana blurted out.

The yordle mage nodded his head.

Teemo was suddenly very doubtful. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be a problem to go and ask someone like Heimerdinger to help us with this, but you're saying we have to make a trip up to Piltover? It's sort of on the other side of Valoran. Traveling by foot would take weeks potentially, and travelling by sea is really dangerous with the storm raging outside. Even Corki wouldn't be able to help us travel by air because of that same reason."

A yellow glint in the mage's eyes flashed at Teemo and Tristana. "You seem to have forgotten what I am, have you?"

They looked confused at those words, but then Tristana pretty much face palmed when she realized what he was talking about. She still sounded doubtful when she said, "Are you saying you can teleport us to Piltover? Isn't that kind of difficult though, teleporting all the way across a continent?"

"Uhh, yeah, are you sure about that Logan?" Teemo added in. "That seems to be asking a lot of you, and we've barely met you as well. I mean, if it's within your limits, then by all means, it would be great if we could avoid taking on a trip like that the hard way."

Veigar smiled rather grimly. "Yes, it is 100% within my power to perform a teleportation like that… but as you suspect, it does have its drawbacks. If I was teleporting myself alone, it would be too easy. To teleport multiple people alongside me is another story entirely. If I were to take at least two people with me, I'd probably just be very exhausted and have to rest somewhere immediately afterwards. Any more than that, I'm not entirely sure."

Teemo began to have more hope. "Well, then you could just take me and Tristana with you, yes? I'm sure we could help you recover after the teleportation."

Tristana realized what the mage was worried about as he turned his head over to the slumbering ball of fur by the fireplace. She followed his gaze over to Gnar, whom was deep in a blissful nap and still letting out a purr every now and then. Tristana turned back towards the mage only to see the most curious expression on his dark furry face. There was a soft look in his yellow eyes that she hadn't seen before. A look of someone that had something precious to keep.

The mere thought of it made her feel so… warm. What was it with this guy? This "Logan"?

Teemo cleared his throat again, a little confused upon observing the sudden display of emotions from the yordle mage. "Well, what's the problem then?"

He was about to say something else when he felt Tristana's hand touch his shoulder, stopping him from continuing further. Perhaps emotions like these confused the yordle scout a little more than others. It wasn't that he was heartless or anything, but he regularly turned off those emotions when he went on solo missions. Seeing it here, something that was being an obstacle in the road ahead, irked him a little. However, he remembered that Logan was lending his assistance, after all. The mage had his own problems and responsibilities, so Teemo had to respect them.

Veigar cleared his throat uncomfortably, feeling Tristana and Teemo's gaze upon him, observing him. "Perhaps we could continue discussing this another time." He glanced over at them, letting out a soft smile.

"Oh… of course!", Tristana quickly agreed. That smile of his seemed to always get to her in a strange way. She returned with her own trademark smile and stood up, gathering some of the finished dishes from the table and beginning to clean up.

Teemo looked a little disheartened that the talk ended so soon, but he followed Tristana's lead and just went with it anyways, also standing up to help her. The yordle mage at first tried to help them clean up, but Tristana insisted that he take a break, and that he was a guest there. He resigned and trotted over to Gnar, who was still slumbering away at the fireplace. Veigar gently wrapped his arms around and under the slumbering yordle, picking him up slowly so that he wouldn't wake him. Gnar wasn't that much smaller than the mage, but Veigar was still able to hold him in his arms cradled against his chest as he carried him away. The kind innkeeper directed him to their room for the night as he got ready to turn in.

Tristana helped clean up the table of dishes, and finished quickly with Teemo's assistance. The two also decided to stay at the Inn for the night, as the rain outside was still intense. They both went into their own rooms for the night, but as Tristana got ready for bed, she couldn't help remembering that soft smile from the mage.

That smile. Something about it was haunting. The way he looked after Gnar. The way he cared about him. How, even with the task of solving the mystery of the storm loomed over him not unlike the storm clouds that gathered above, the yordle mage put his concern for the Gnar above all else.

And indeed, that smile was haunting. Haunting, somber, secretive, and was almost akin to the way someone feels when they put on a mask.

* * *

Veigar lay under the covers of the bed that was provided to him by the innkeeper. The mage wore only his pants, and had no shirt on, and thus the bed sheets felt very pleasant against his furry body. It was a surprisingly comfortable bed, even given how small it was. He was quite used to the very large king-sized bed back at his mansion, so he felt a little awkward in this new bed. Maybe he was just thinking a bit greedily, honestly, as he should be gracious for the innkeeper to offer this temporary housing to him for free. The influence of Tristana and Teemo was enough to set that up for him.

He gazed around the small room, observing the simple wooden walls that made up their resting place. The window was shut, with thousands of raindrops viciously batting against the glass. It looked vicious, at least, but it was apparently soundproof, as the torrential downpour outside sounded something more akin to a pleasant drizzle. He glanced at the lone table of the room under the window, where his staff lay. It's white orb seemed to reflect the distorted light of the moon through the raindrops, with the center a dancing mass of gentle luminosity. It provided a nightlight for him, enough to see the contents of the room, but not intense enough so as to disturb his sleep.

Veigar then turned his attention to the opposite side of the room, observing the other bed and its lone occupant. The mage was grateful that the innkeeper provided them a room with two beds. He had laid Gnar out on the other bed, pulling the warm bed sheets over his slumbering and peaceful form. The little yordle hadn't woken up that whole time, and now lay there clinging onto the bed sheets with pure comfort and content. The sound of the rain outside was soft enough to keep him lulled to sleep, Veigar supposed. It was almost lulling him to sleep, too.

The mage stared back up at the wooden ceiling. He counted the cracks in the wooden boards. He debated what the next day would bring. He brainstormed. Once again, it seemed like his night was restless. Veigar was unable to fall asleep, considering the foreign environment he was in. Never had the mage thought that he would be sleeping anywhere but in his personal bedroom. If someone had told him that he would be sleeping at the Bandle Inn, in freaking **Bandle City** , he would have laughed at them. Called them crazy.

Veigar released another weary sigh. He seemed to be sighing a lot more often in times like these. Being alone with your thoughts can be a scary thing sometimes. Your mind comes alive. Your mind becomes an ocean of mystery and imagination, going this way and that, turning up and about and around again, seeming to become an entity of its own. An entity you can't control. That was the part that scared Veigar. Before, his mind was only filled with darkness. Only dark thoughts prevailed, and it got pretty one-dimensional and rather boring after a while. But now, here he was, with his mind set free, and thus, had no idea what to do with itself. He was still befuddled on why the darkness fled from his mind in the first place. Not that he was complaining.

A flash of light shining through the window caught his attention. Curiously, he gazed at the window, going back to observing the rain. He heard something that sounded like a gentle crack originating from outside. Was that lightning?

As he continued looking on, another flash of light, more intense than the first, came through the window a minute later. It was more noticeably intense. Oh no, that could only mean-

CRACK.

The thunder roared outside, much more audible from before. The soundproof walls stopped most of it from coming through, but it was enough to startle Veigar a bit and make him jump. He almost hid under the covers, feeling like a child again. He hadn't heard a crack of thunder like that for a long time. Pretty much ever since… those dark days that he wouldn't ever wish to think about again.

Another flash of light. The time between this one and the last one was even shorter. Veigar braced himself, half hiding his face under the covers.

 **CRACK.**

Veigar got startled again. However, this time it wasn't because of the thunder, but because he heard some rustling from the other bed across the room. He quickly glanced over at Gnar, who was now shaking and shivering in fear under the covers. Gnar had burrowed himself deeply into the confines of his bed sheets, not used to the scary sounds of the thunder and lightning outside. Veigar heard Gnar muttering under his breath, and felt another pang of guilt for the youngling. He wasn't expecting the storm to be capable of releasing noises of thunder, yet here it was, and he could almost feel the lightning even from so far away.

 **CRACK.**

For the third time, Veigar jumped, and this time it was the sound of Gnar yelping and actually falling out of his bed onto the wooden floor with a loud clump. The poor yordle was tangled in his bedsheets and scrambling around trying to free himself. The mage watched with worry in his eyes as Gnar finally shed the bed covers off his body. Gnar's eyes frantically searched the room, trying to get his bearings again after being awakened by the thunder. His large, charcoal eyes finally found a pair of yellow eyes in the dimly lit room.

Veigar felt the innocent fear that emanated from Gnar's eyes. And he felt more than just that, too. Veigar had a sort of intuitive ability, in fact, and could see a part of an individual's soul simply by looking into their eyes. It was an ability he feared, and thus, was part of the reason he shrouded his own face and made it difficult for others to look into his own eyes.

But now here, in the dark room of the Bandle Inn, he saw something in Gnar's eyes as Gnar gazed into his own. He saw a spark of hope glimmer, desperately searching for something. Another loud crack of thunder from outside was enough to make Gnar terrified again, and Veigar realized that he had to do something.

"Hey, Gnar…", Veigar's voice softly rang out into the dark room. Gnar's ears perked up at his words, looking in his direction once more.

"Gnar… come here… it's ok", the mage whispered soothingly, letting his words be a guide for the young yordle. Gnar hesitantly crawled forward across the wooden floor towards Veigar's bed. The mage reached down his hand, which the prehistoric yordle quickly grabbed hold of, seeking comfort of any sort. Veigar gently tugged, helping Gnar climb up onto the bed beside him.

Veigar realized the bed would barely fit the both of them, and he sort of felt a little awkward with what they had to do next. He gently pulled and tugged Gnar close to his body, with Gnar getting the hint finally. The young yordle perhaps got a little eager about it, and quickly snuggled into Veigar's side, clinging onto the mage's bare, dark fur and laying his head against Veigar's chest. The yordle mage felt a gentle blush rise in his cheeks, but he ignored the funny feeling and wrapped an arm around Gnar, cradling him close to himself so as to make him feel safe. Veigar pulled the bed covers over the two of them as he heard Gnar begin to purr softly. Another crack of thunder rang outside, causing the young yordle to whimper again, but this time Veigar gave Gnar a gentle, reassuring squeeze. This caused Gnar to snuggle closer against him, their fur intermingling with one another.

Oh god, what had Veigar gotten himself into. He still felt red in his cheeks as he thought about his current situation, and wondered how the heck he was supposed to fall asleep now. He had to admit, however… he was feeling much warmer with Gnar's body heat emanating against his own. As rather shy as he was, he felt really nice… and he was starting to feel more calm in his mind than before.

He reached over with his free hand and sought out one of Gnar's hands. He slipped it underneath Gnar's paw, and promptly felt Gnar secure a grip on his own. Veigar heard another purr emanate from Gnar, who was starting to slip back into slumber once more. Another crack of thunder reigned outside, but this one didn't even bother the two yordles anymore.

Veigar felt his eyes grow heavy. He felt his mind grow clouded. But it wasn't dark clouds, this time. These clouds were very warm, and pleasant. These clouds made every thought feel heavy too, and even thinking about it intensified the feeling a hundred times over. Before his eyes shut for good, he glanced down at the little yordle who was cuddling against his side. He saw those floppy ears of Gnar flicker, probably from some dream he was having. He felt Gnar's hand on top of his, squeezing every now and then. Veigar finally closed his eyes.

And the two yordles slumbered together that night, the rain falling outside a blanket to all of their struggles to come.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey there. I know it's only been about a week, but I still feel like I fell off the face of the Earth, haha!**

 **Been doing other stuffs, and hadn't had the motivation to continue writing. More like I'm just being lazy, I suppose... though I did recently make a Veigar Montage! That was pretty fun.**

 **But yeah, I hope you are enjoying reading so far. I felt a little shy and warm inside writing this particular chapter for some reason ;w;**

 **Anyways, I'll have the next chapter out sometime. If you ever wonder where I've went, feel free to PM me and stuff, or leave a Review if you like the story so far :P**

 **I hope you readers are all doing well! See you next time~ ;)**


	10. Chapter 9 - Tides of Tricks (OLD)

The air was calm. The room temperature was warm. The morning crept by, pretty much unnoticed by the inhabitants of Bandle City. The storm abated for the time being, allowing the smallest rays of sunlight to breach the layer of clouds for the first time in a while.

Veigar gently stirred from his slumber. His eyelids lifted, still so heavy from his peaceful dreams he had last night. He had to make what seemed like an immense amount of effort just to open his eyes, reaching his right hand up from his side and rubbing at his stubborn eyelids. He tried to raise his left arm as well, except he then remembered that very moment that his left arm was currently occupied.

He glanced down and was met with a warm sight that he could only describe as orange and furry. Oh, so that's why he felt so warm. He hadn't remembered being so warm, even back at his wonderful king-sized bed in his mansion. His arm was still cradling Gnar against his side, the youngling using Veigar's chest as a pillow for his fluffy head. An occasional purr still slipped from the prehistoric yordle, still stuck in a long and dream-filled sleep.

Veigar gazed and observed Gnar for what seemed like minutes. Observed and pondered again. He seemed to always be pondering much more than usual as of late. This time, he was thinking about what he had become for the young yordle. What was he? Was he a sort of pseudo father? Caretaker? A close friend?

It was too difficult to say. Considering how young Gnar was, perhaps it was too early to identify his relationship with the youngling. He got a little uncomfortable thinking about it, honestly. Now that he was awake, he supposed he could use some time to himself for once.

Veigar then took on the arduous task of slipping out of the bed without waking up Gnar from his deep slumber. It took some time, but he managed to trade places with the pillow and lay the young yordle's head resting upon it, pulling the covers over Gnar to keep him warm. The mage was honestly surprised that Gnar wasn't awake yet, and the realization came when he looked out the window.

Was that sunlight? Veigar couldn't believe his eyes. Moving closer to the window and observing the outside confirmed his suspicions. Rays of sunlight peaked through the overhead clouds, gently tickling the city of Bandle and its inhabitants. It wasn't a lot of sunlight, but it was enough to make Veigar feel invigorated again. He hadn't seen or felt the warmth of the sun ever since before he met Gnar. Now he really had to get outside.

He quietly got dressed in his brown robes and put on his hat. Veigar decided to leave his staff in the inn room for now, since he planned on returning in a couple of hours or so. He took out a few snowberries from his travel pouch to snack on for the morning and sneakily left the room.

On his way out, he got startled when he very nearly ran into the innkeeper in the hallway, who was carrying a box of supplies. "Oh, I'm so very sorry!", the innkeeper apologized frantically to the mage.

"Please, it's fine", Veigar replied reassuringly. "I was just on my way out for a stroll outside."

The innkeeper stared at the mage confounded. "This early?"

"What do you mean?", the mage asked quizzically.

"Why, it's like 5 AM in the morning. I wasn't expecting anyone to be up this early!", the innkeeper replied.

What? How did he wake up so early? This was unlike Veigar. Maybe Gnar just helped him sleep a ton better than usual. That was strange…

Veigar cleared his throat. "Well… I just have some habits, I suppose. I just wanted to get out and see the city some more, especially with the sun out for once. I will be back very soon, however, so could you look after…?"

The innkeeper gave a smile of understanding. "Of course, sir. I've taken care of Gnar before. He's in good hands."

Veigar smiled and thanked the innkeeper for his generosity, continuing on his way and exiting the Bandle Inn into the outdoors.

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped outside, he felt warm rays of sunlight from above. It was still somewhat overcast unfortunately, but it was better than having no sun at all for this amount of time. Veigar decided to enjoy it while it lasted and set onward through the city. Since he had waken up early for whatever reason, he figured he'd have more time to himself for this beautiful day.

Popping a couple of snowberries into his mouth to snack on, he strolled through Bandle City's streets, noticing that there was very few yordles who were up at this hour. Veigar only walked by a couple of Bandle's denizens, each of whom greeted him kindly, albeit sleepily, to which he responded in kind. The mage stretched out his arms after finishing his morning snack, feeling so giddy and glad to be alive on a day like this. Strolling through Bandle City freely without having to disguise himself made him feel much better, as well. This was his birthplace, after all. Why wouldn't someone be able to return to their home city every now and then…

Veigar's demeanor darkened a little. Home… birthplace. That reminded him of his childhood. He wasn't lying when he said he could barely remember his parents. His family. He didn't remember if they were good people or if they were bad. All the mage could remember is that he was very curious as a yordle child. Especially curious about the lands outside of Bandle Land.

Too curious for his own good.

Veigar shook his head. He can't think about that right now. This wasn't a day to ponder on the past. Perhaps he needed a change of scenery. He wanted to visit the beach, perhaps. Bandle City was very close to the ocean, and had a beach that was very popular for strolling down on days like these. He made his way there now, exiting through the city gates after making his intentions known to the single, sleepy guard who remained at his post, even at this ungodly hour.

There was only a small stretch of forest on this side of Bandle City, and it took him only a few minutes for him to hear the crashing of the ocean waves against a shore. He pushed his way onward through the last few bushes and came upon a breathtaking scenery, the air permeated with the scent of the ocean and the wind.

The beach looked beautiful. The only thing that triumphed over that was the view of the sun, barely visible above the distant horizon, peaking through the clouds like a child peeking through the curtains of a candy store. Birds flew overhead, wind blowing gently by and tickling his furry cheeks, and the constant and rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore was like a lullaby almost lulling him back to sleep once again.

Veigar smiled. He smiled that soft smile of his once again. Never had the sight of the ocean made him feel so joyful inside. He walked forward and began to trudge through the sand, being slow and careful so as to not kick up too much sand in his boots. He stopped close enough to the sand line where the incoming waves crawled to a stop, not intent on getting himself wet either, and just stood there. Here he stood alone, alone but happy and content. He took a large intake of breath, holding it for a few seconds, only to exhale, his breath melding with the gentle breeze around him. Veigar didn't know how a day could be any better than this.

Perhaps he wasn't meant to ever find out that particular moment, as movement in the ocean water caught his eye. The mage turned his full attention past the incoming waves, and wondered what it was he saw. There was a large object disturbing the water away from the shore, and it appeared something large was slowly rising out of the water, revealing what Veigar could only describe as the most terrifying shark he had ever seen. The shark dipped back into the water, only to reappear a little closer to the beach. It dipped once more, then viciously shot upwards out of the water, although not getting much air time due to its size. What caught Veigar's eye at that very moment was what looked like a yordle-sized figure leaping high into the air, carried by the momentum of the shark shooting itself upwards out of the water. The mage had to cover his eyes as he looked up, as a ray of sunlight blinded him temporarily. He heard something land softly on the sand a few feet away from him, startling Veigar into a defensive stance with his arms still raised.

Once his vision had returned, the mage slowly lowered his arms and observed the most curious specimen in front of him. What he had first taken as the form of a yordle was actually the form of an aquatic creature that he happened to recognize. The newcomer had not fur, but rather smooth blue skin. It had webbed hands and feet, holding an object in each hand. Veigar could only identify one as an ancient trident with runes engraved near its triple-tipped blades. The head was even stranger, as the fishy creature had a wide mouth, no nose, large eyes, and had multiple tendrils which could pass as its "hair". This individual Veigar knew went by the name of Fizz, the Tidal Trickster as was his title. He had never met Fizz much, especially not directly, but he had heard of the trickster's antics across Valoran. The shark that Veigar had seen had to be Chomper, Fizz's trusty companion which he traveled the oceans with.

After Fizz's rather agile landing, he gathered himself and noticed the strange yordle standing there. He wasn't expecting someone to be on the beach at this time, since it was so early in the morning. The fish didn't recognize this yordle either, but he had something very familiar about the way he carried himself.

Fizz grinned. "Hello there!"

Veigar hesitantly lowered his guard. Not that he felt safe around the strange fish. "Greetings, Fizz."

"You know my name?", Fizz asked, surprised.

Veigar paused for a second. He should really be cautious, since the trickster hadn't even recognized him yet. "Yes. You are quite well known in Bandle City, and I hear about your adventures all the time."

Fizz grinned even wider. "'Adventures' is one way to put it. Hehe!"

Of course. Veigar would need to be cautious around this guy. Fizz wasn't one to mess with, especially with how notorious he was for playing pranks on people. He had sort of made up the part about hearing of the trickster's adventures, but he presumed that Fizz wasn't above messing with people every now and then, even if it was for fun.

Speaking of pranks… Veigar got a closer look at the other object Fizz held in his other hand opposite his trusty trident. It appeared to be a wrench of some sort. Why on earth would Fizz have-

Veigar froze.

Fizz tilted his head curiously at the strange yordle's sudden change in demeanor. "Who are you anyways? I don't think I've seen you around Bandle City before!"

The mage quickly gathered himself. "You can call me Logan. I'm visiting Bandle City currently", he told the trickster.

"Logan, huh?", Fizz replied thoughtfully, studying the yordle's face. "You don't look like a Logan to me."

"W-what?", Veigar stuttered. "What about me says otherwise? You can't just assume someone's name based on appearance alone."

"I don't know, it just doesn't fit. But don't worry about it!", the trickster responded with a snicker. "Whaddya doin out here on the beach, anyways?"

"Taking a stroll", Veigar stated rather bluntly.

"This early?"

"A very early morning stroll."

Fizz giggled a bit. "You sure are funny, Logan."

Veigar turned his gaze back to the wrench Fizz was holding. "What are you doing with that, anyways? I know you carry a trident around, but why that peculiar object?"

"Wha, this?", Fizz held up the wrench. "Was just thinking about tossing it somewhere, since it has no use to me. Why do you ask?"

"Where'd you get that from?"

Fizz got a little suspicious rather quickly. "Why do you ask?", he repeated.

Veigar gave in and said, "You got it from Rumble, didn't you?"

Fizz's confident behavior dipped for just a second as his eyes widened. "Ohh. Now I see. I appear to have been caught, huh?"

The mage sighed. "I remember Rumble mentioning that he was looking for a wrench. Why do you have it?"

"Maybe I was just… playing a little prank on him, hmmm?", Fizz teased back, putting the wrench behind his back and out of view.

Veigar decided to try a simple and polite approach. "Well, perhaps since you **just** said you were going to toss it out, perhaps you could just pass it along to me so that I may return it to him?"

Fizz looked thoughtful for a second, before smiling rather deviously. It looked like he was always smiling honestly, with that wide mouth of his, but Fizz had his ways of looking devious. "Well, that **would** be the right thing to do, wouldn't it…? However, now that you're here, and you seem to have found me out… why don't we have a little fun?"

Veigar got very nervous at those words. "What do you imply, Fizz?"

Fizz's eyes narrowed at the yordle, as he held it out plainly in his hand towards the mage, and declared, "Take it from me."

The mage narrowed his eyes as well. He slowly walked forward towards Fizz and reached out his hand, and sure enough, Fizz deftly swiped it out of reach just before the yordle could grab it, and leapt away, hopping a few feet away from Veigar, continuing to hold it out tauntingly.

Fizz snickered again. "What's wrong? Can't you just take it from me?"

Veigar sighed. He stared down Fizz who was still looking quite smug about the game he intended to play with this "Logan" character. He shook his hand back and forth, shaking some water off and flinging his hair tendrils around as he braced himself.

However, Veigar stood there motionless, not intent on moving.

Fizz looked a little disappointed. "Aww, what's wrong, not going to play with me? I thought you wanted this wrench that badly?"

Fizz's words didn't reach the yordle. It's not like Veigar was ever going to catch the trickster simply by chasing him and jumping around, oh no. He was busy focusing. Focusing inside his mind. Even though Veigar didn't have his staff with him, he didn't need it to channel his mana and bring it forward.

Veigar slowly raised his arm forward, outstretched towards Fizz, focusing on the wrench. The wrench made a sudden tugging motion as if an invisible rope was wrapped tightly around it and nearly yanked it out of the trickster's hand, which surprised Fizz immensely, but he quickly tightened his grip and managed to clutch it tightly to his chest.

Fizz gave a light giggle. "Oh, so you're a mage, huh? I wasn't expecting-"

Veigar didn't give him a chance to finish. He raised his arm upwards, causing the very sand around Fizz to swirl around and rise up, trying to capture the trickster in a sandy tomb, but Fizz reacted just as quickly, leaping high up into the air with great agility. But Veigar wasn't done just yet, as he kept rising pillar after pillar of sand with each of Fizz's landings, causing the trickster to rely on his trident to nimbly dodge each and every single one of them.

Veigar then swept his arms from side to side, causing the wind to gather up around him and send a small tornado of sand to grow in size and chase after Fizz, who then made a mad dash towards the ocean water to get out of harm's way. He dove straight into the water, narrowly avoiding the sand tornado and vanishing from Veigar's sight for awhile. Veigar took a deep breath, and patiently waited for a minute or so to gather himself again.

Fizz popped his head out of the water, who was actually a little out of breath from having to dodge so many of the mage's spells. He grinned at the yordle who noticed him, as he lay mostly submerged in the ocean waves, with his head barely above the surface.

He called out to the mage. "That's quite some magic you got there, but don't you gotta say that that's unfair?"

Veigar calmly shook his head. "If you thought that was unfair, then you are sorely mistaken, trickster."

Fizz frowned at that. "Whaddya mean? I think that gives you an unfair advantage!"

Veigar suddenly gave his own rather devious smile. He raised his arm again, towards Fizz, but rather slowly this time.

Fizz saw the yordle raise his arm again, and was ready to jump in case another one of his spells were to rise up again. He was ready for whatever magic tricks this guy had to throw at him. He wouldn't be caught in anything as trivial as-

Fizz stopped moving. Try as he might, he literally couldn't bring himself to move. He tried to raise his arms out of the water, but couldn't. He tried to submerge himself completely, but couldn't. What had happened?

Fizz saw the yordle smile. No. There was no way.

Veigar slowly walked towards the trapped trickster. The second his foot touched the water, the surface literally froze up, turning into a sheet of ice that emanated from the mage. He had intended to drive Fizz away from the sand and into the water on purpose, which made the trickster fall right into his trap. While Veigar had been a practitioner of dark magics, that hadn't meant he slacked in all areas of magic, such as manipulating the earth, such as the sand, or even changing the temperature of liquids at a very rapid rate.

The mage stopped just before the trickster, literally standing on the water which rapidly turned to ice for his footing. He raised his arms, lifting Fizz out of the water and revealing a thin layer of frozen water which trapped the trickster and prevented any of his movement. Fizz frowned in utter frustration as he was bested by such a petty magical trap such as this, but he had to give it to the yordle. He wasn't expecting magic like that, and it really took him off guard. Regardless, he was furious.

Veigar casually reached for the wrench that Fizz held in his frozen palm, unfreezing the water which held it and sliding it out of the trickster's grasp. He examined the wrench. Man, was it rusty looking. It even looked like it had been through hell, yet had been fused back together on multiple occasions. Definitely one of Rumble's for sure.

Veigar turned his gaze back to the frozen Fizz, who glared at him furiously. The yordle gently patted the trickster on the head tauntingly.

"Thank you, Fizz. Was fun."

The mage then turned and walked away back towards the shore, and as he left, all the frozen water began to melt, including the water around Fizz, freeing him and dropping him back under the water.

Veigar set his feet back on the sand, feeling more comfortable there than on a thin layer of ice, but before he left, he heard Fizz scrambling out of the water towards him.

"Wait!", Fizz called out.

The mage turned his gaze towards the trickster curiously.

As frustrated as Fizz was, it was outdone by his need to know something.

"Logan isn't your name, is it?"

The yordle said nothing.

"Who are you really?", Fizz asked desperately.

Again, the mage said nothing. Then he smiled.

"It was nice to meet you, Fizz!"

Veigar then turned and walked away once again with the wrench in one hand, leaving a bewildered Fizz standing there alone on the beach.

* * *

It took a few minutes of walking alone before Veigar finally sighed to himself, letting out some pent up exhaustion out. The act of controlling all of that sand, and then simultaneously freezing the temperature of the ocean water had winded him greatly. He hadn't used that much normal magic for so long, and the simple act of it had drained him much more than he anticipated. It was a good thing he had managed to make Fizz fall into the trap he had set, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to continue on the little game of his. Fizz was a tough one indeed, being able to dodge out and react to his initial magic was ease, despite being surprised that he was a mage.

He tossed the wrench back and forth between his hands. Veigar supposed Rumble would be very ecstatic to have it back, although it seemed really pointless to the mage. After all, couldn't Rumble just get another wrench? As a mechanic, he was sure to have plenty, right?

To be honest, Veigar wasn't sure where Rumble lived exactly, but he had a general idea of where he'd be. He knew there was a junkyard hidden away on one side of Bandle City where yordles tossed away used stuff, and most of it was known to be mechanical stuff. He figured Rumble probably lived somewhere nearby so he could make easy trips to the junkyard to find tinkering objects to scavenge and use for his hobbies.

Sure enough, he found a dinky looking house that had an almost beat up look to it. There was a section of the building that had a garage door, presumably where Rumble might drive his mech into for repairs and such. Veigar walked right up to the door and knocked on it a few times. He heard something crashing inside, causing him to jump and chuckle in amusement, waiting only a few more seconds before the door knob twitched and cracked open, revealing the yordle mechanic glaring at Veigar with blood-shot eyes.

"What do you want?", Rumble vehemently mumbled, giving a nasty look to the yordle mage.

Veigar silently cursed as he just remembered how early in the morning it was, but he put on his soft smile again and held out the wrench towards the mechanic.

Rumble looked and stared at the object in the mage's hand, and had a sort of dumb look as if wondering what the hell it was that the mage was offering to him. He rubbed his eyes with fatigue and looked again, suddenly widening his eyes as he realized what it was.

"W-wait, isn't that my wrench?!", Rumble exclaimed in disbelief, almost snatching it out of Veigar's open hand and examining it more closely. Sure enough, he seemed to recognize it by the peculiar design of the worn wrench, and the mage's smile widened in amusement as Rumble hugged and clutched the wrench to his chest, as if it was some childhood toy that he cherished. The mechanic let out a loud bellowing laugh that went a little high pitched for a bit, crying tears of joy as he tried to calm himself down again.

Once he had, he looked at the mage in bewilderment. "How did you find it? Are you a saint or somethin'?"

Veigar thought for a moment if it was a good idea to tell him about Fizz. Perhaps he didn't have to put a bad name on anyone, as he bowed and said, "Let's just say magic has its ways, hmm?" He gave a sly wink.

Rumble rolled his eyes in mock amusement, but chuckled nonetheless. "Well, I won't question it, I guess. I'm just glad to have this back. I've had this wrench for a long time, and just being without it meant I couldn't ever calm the fudge down, searching everywhere and being nervous and stuff…"

Veigar reached out and gently patted the mechanic's shoulder. "It's quite alright. I'm happy to have done something for a new friend."

The mechanic softened his demeanor. _What was it with this guy?_ , Rumble thought. Everything about this "Logan" character… just made him feel so safe. Why was he so kind to people he just met?

The mage glanced upwards and examined the position of the sun peaking through the clouds. He gathered himself, patting Rumble's shoulder one more time before backing away. "It appears I must be elsewhere very soon. I hope to talk to you more sometime, Rumble! Goodbye~."

Rumble sort of sheepishly waved goodbye, surprised at the mage leaving so soon. He watched the mage's back as he left, disappearing into the surrounding forest headed towards Bandle City. He continued to stand there, gazing down at the wrench in his clenched palm, and stood there alone, continuing to wonder with unsatisfied curiosity.


	11. Chapter 10 - Approaching (OLD)

**Author's note: Hey all, Vei here once again. I just wanted to thank those of you reviewing my story. I actually try to reply to all reviews through PM's, but some of them I can't due to not having an account or having PM'ing disabled. I just wanted to thank those of you for your support as well as your ideas. They really help me lay out some of the story, and may actually influence some chapters in the future ;3 So please, feel free to share some ideas of what you'd like to see!**

 **Thank you again for your support!**

* * *

Rays of sunlight began to become more prominent within the room of which Gnar resided in. He lay curled up in bed still, half snuggling himself into his own tail, with its fluff providing him a comfortable pillow as well as warmth. The young yordle breathed inwards and outwards in a steady rhythm, still in a deep slumber from last night. The rude awakening from the thunderstorm, which Gnar had never experienced before, was pretty much gone from his memory since it was replaced by something much warmer.

He dreamed of Veigar, still…

The angle of sunlight leaking into the room soon began to tickle Gnar's ears, tickling him with their subtle energy, causing him to slowly crack open his eyes. He awoke with the speed of a sloth, eventually stretching out his arms and legs and letting out a loud yawn. Last night had let Gnar rest very well, and his morning energy soon started to kick in.

That's when Gnar finally looked around the inn room he was in and realized he was alone. He was the only occupant of the bed, the other one was empty, and only Veigar's staff and a brown travelling bag was left upon the table. Gnar rubbed at his eyes and clambered off the bed sheets, prowling on all fours upon the wooden floorboards.

He climbed onto the chair and reached for the bag, shuffling his hands into the confines and fishing out his boomerang. At some point or another, Veigar had packed his tribal weapon for some reason and brought it along with them. Perhaps Gnar really didn't have any need for it… but since Veigar wasn't around, the prehistoric yordle wouldn't feel very safe without it. He jumped off the table towards the door, reaching upwards and fumbling with the doorknob for a bit before clumsily pushing it open.

Gnar proceeded down the hallway and descended a set of stairs when he heard the sound of two yordles speaking to one another. He adopted a more stealthy approach down the rest of the stairs and peaked around the corner into the Bandle Inn's cafe area, where many tables and chairs were currently vacant save for one particular table in the corner.

The youngling recognized Teemo and Tristana sitting at that table. They were sitting close together and discussing something that Gnar couldn't quite hear from his current distance since he was on the other side of the large room. He kept low to the ground, crawling forward on all fours into the room and sneaking under some tables until he got in close enough proximity for their voices to reach his ears.

"...With the way it's looking now, we may not even need to meet with the mayor at all… especially since the clouds no longer look so ominous, there may not even be a way to track the original source…"

Gnar realized it was Teemo speaking. While Gnar may have been a primitive yordle and was more accustomed to his own language, he had spent enough time in Bandle City and around various yordles to listen to the current dialect for enough time. Unfortunately, he still had trouble speaking it at all, and he couldn't understand every word, but he comprehended key words, such as "mayor", and "clouds". He wondered if they were speaking of how the sun hadn't been shining for some time now, although it woke him up this morning. Gnar had missed the sun, but he missed Veigar even more.

"Well, what do we do then?", Gnar heard Tristana speak. "Do we just return to our normal duties? Literally just drop everything that we had planned and act like nothing's wrong? What about all those yordles who live on the outskirts in the forest? They are likely still recovering from everything…"

Teemo gave a long sigh. "I really don't know at this point, Trist. It's not like I can predict what the weather is going to do, I'm not a weather reporter. I'm a Scout for Bandle City, trained for more grim things than watching the clouds pass by."

Gnar lay there at his hiding spot under the tables, listening to the two of them discuss back and forth. None of it interested Gnar. He wondered if maybe they knew where Veigar was. He wondered about so many things, honestly… like how Veigar can do such magical things, or when Gnar would get another tasty snowberry treat, and wow was Gnar suddenly very hungry at that moment.

"What do you think we should say to Logan?"

Gnar's ears perked up again at the mention of that name. He still didn't understand why Veigar was being referred to by that name. Gnar remembered earlier before they entered Bandle City that Veigar didn't want him to say his name out loud. For what purpose was Veigar being secretive? It worried him…

Gnar heard Teemo speak up again. "To be honest, I feel a little bad for telling Logan to come all the way here to Bandle City if the storm is just going to go away like that. I feel bad for him and Gnar. Which, speaking of, doesn't Gnar seem rather attached to him?"

Now it was Tristana's turn to sigh. "Well, does that bug you? I mean, when Gnar was wandering around Bandle City by himself, no one offered to take him in… I sort of wished I had, but I was worried by duties as a Bandle Gunner might make it hard for me. So what's wrong now that Logan has decided to take Gnar under his wing? Who knows, maybe he can teach the cutie a thing or two about our world, as I'm sure a mage like him probably has a massive library and…", Tristana trailed off.

"Does Logan mystify you, Trist?", Teemo inquired.

Tristana didn't answer right away. "... Well, I'm not sure, Teems. He is… quite a yordle, I'll say. Something about the way he carries himself seems so… I'm having trouble describing it. He's so upbeat. So confident. Being around him and hearing him talk, he just sounds so hopeful. Being around him makes me feel confident too… and it actually confuses me so much, because no one has ever made me feel that way when I've literally just met them."

Teemo was silent for a bit as well. "I get that vibe a bit, too, I suppose. But I'm also suspicious of him… a mage like him, showing up out of nowhere? And I've never seen a yordle with black fur, and those scars… I wonder if-"

The sound of a doorknob turning silenced the scout from continuing, and Gnar sharply turned his head towards the entrance, peeking under the tables at as the doors gently swung open. Gnar caught a glimpse of brown robes, and felt himself filled with joy as he heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, hello you two! I didn't realize you'd be awake." It was Veigar's voice. He was back.

Gnar heard Teemo and Tristana shuffle out of their seats and greet him back. Gnar's ears suddenly drooped as he felt a strange pang of guilt from eavesdropping on the two yordles like that. He knew what he was doing was probably a naughty and bad thing, but he couldn't help but wonder what he would have heard had the conversation gone on longer…

Thinking quickly, Gnar turned around and quietly maneuvered under the tables back towards the stairs, softly climbing back upwards and heading down the hall. He was so focused on returning to his room that when he turned the corner, he very nearly ran right into the legs of the innkeeper, who had to dodge to the side to avoid a collision with Gnar.

"Whoa, Gnar! Are you ok, sweetie?", the innkeeper asked worriedly. Gnar turned and gazed upwards at the yordle, and was breathing somewhat noticeably from hurrying up the stairs so fast. Gnar wondered if he was caught in a guilty manner or not, and wasn't sure about what to do when he heard footsteps going up the stairs he had just ascended earlier.

Sure enough, Veigar turned the corner and saw Gnar and the innkeeper standing there, gazing in surprise that Gnar was up as well.

"Hey, I just got back-"

Once again, Veigar was cut short as a ball of orange furry mass almost crashed into him as Gnar hugged firmly against the mage's chest, nuzzling and purring as he did before. Veigar was only slightly prepared this time and didn't fall on his back this time, but was still extraordinarily startled by Gnar's enthusiasm. He wrapped his own arms around the youngling and hugged him close, glancing over at the innkeeper with an embarrassed smile.

The innkeeper, however, smiled back at Veigar warmly. "I see you two really are close friends. You mean a lot to Gnar, I can tell!"

That put Veigar at ease, hearing those words. "I must thank you so much… it really means alot to me."

At that very moment, Veigar heard and felt a very uncomfortable feeling rise in his stomach as it grumbled in hunger. A similar grumble could be heard emitting from Gnar as well, and the innkeeper laughed at the comical timing.

"Well, how convenient for you two. Who wants some pancakes?"

* * *

Back at the table once again, Veigar sat with Gnar at his side as they waited for breakfast to finish cooking. The Bandle Inn was starting to be filled with other yordles, waiting as well for the breakfast rush. Teemo and Tristana sat across from them, twiddling their fingers about upon the table, as they too were feeling the hunger rising up in them. Fortunately for them (as Tristana so proudly exclaimed), Bandle Inn had the best pancakes in Valoran, cooked with a special Bandle mix recipe that only the innkeeper knew, keeping it a strict trademark secret. Veigar wondered how many times Tristana kept coming here, and yet still somehow managed to keep a fit body. He blushed and shook his head of the thought.

Soon the innkeeper began to deliver the pancakes to tables, much to the delight of the awaiting hungry customers. Before the food got to their table, Veigar heard the front doors open, turning his head and seeing Rumble walk in. The mohawked yordle saw them and walked towards their table, asking if he could join them. He sat opposite Veigar, taking a spot next to Tristana.

"How are you doing, Rumble? Still sleepy?", Veigar asked him with a teasing smirk, causing Rumble to roll his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I'm alright now. Will feel better with some Bandle pancakes in my stomach, for sure", he replied. Though he felt a little embarrassed about it, he appreciated the mage's kindness. Rumble glanced at Tristana who was eyeing him and smiling slyly, which caused him to promptly blush and look away a little too quickly.

"Ah, I can smell it already!", Veigar exclaimed, seeing the innkeeper finally come to their table with a tray full of delicious looking plates of food. Soon everyone had a plate full of pancakes, eggs, and hash browns in front of them, causing their eyes to water and their stomachs to grumble out in protest, barely able to contain their excitement as they began to chow down. This time, however, Veigar helped Gnar figure out how to use a fork and knife, showing him how to cut the pancakes and use the fork to feed them into his mouth. Gnar made pleased yelping noises as he held his mouth wide open as Veigar fed him a forkful of pancake. Soon, the young yordle was cutting up his pancakes with the fork and knife, albeit a little clumsily. At least it wasn't as messy as before!

"Thish foodsh nevah gesht old", declared Rumble through a mouthful of food. He almost choked on his food when Tristana punched his shoulder for having rude table manners, causing the other yordles to chuckle and giggle at his predicament.

Veigar himself was at a loss for words. He had never had such cooking done for him before, as he dug into the pancakes doused in maple syrup. The eggs and hash browns made a fine addition to the meal, as he savored every bite, wondering at his luck for having such wonderful friends around him…

Tristana and Teemo were chatting among themselves in between bites. Veigar vaguely heard Tristana saying, "...with how things are looking up, we probably won't even need to seek an audience with the mayor about going to Piltover. What do you think you are going to do, Logan?"

The yordle mage looked up from his meal, swallowing his food before speaking. "Well… I'm not entirely sure. It feels like it's too soon to really say anything, because I'm really suspicious about how the storm could just come and go like that."

"Well, why don't you stay here in Bandle?", Teemo asked.

Veigar paused at that. He wasn't so sure. "I feel like I would be taking advantage of your hospitality, though… you two have done so much for me! You got Gnar and I a nice room and beds, you've payed for our food, you've treated us so well… I would feel somewhat guilty if we just stayed in Bandle if there was no business to be conducted."

"Aww, I wouldn't worry so much about that, Logan! You've been really nice to have around", Tristana assured him. She wondered if it was ever possible for this Logan guy to have a limit to how so nice he was. He felt bad that they were paying for everything? She was beyond amazed at this point that a stranger such as himself could be like this.

"Maybe", Rumble piped up, "you could help me with some stuff, eh? You wouldn't have to sit around and do nothing, I'm sure! Even others around the city could use help from a mage such as yourself…"

Veigar saw their reasoning and found himself agreeing with them, but he still couldn't help but feel so strange about the whole thing. If only they knew. If only they knew who he really was. He glanced to Gnar, who was surprisingly already finished with his plate and was patting his own belly in immense satisfaction. Gnar was the only one who knew who he was, but he was basically an innocent child. Veigar felt guilty that he had somehow "seduced" Gnar in a way to think that he was a great person. But was he really? All the things Veigar had done in his past… how could he be forgiven for such things?

"I really don't know…", the mage lamented. Tristana and Rumble kept pressing him, wondering what was bothering him so. Veigar felt a hand press down upon his, glancing down to find Gnar's orange furred hand gripped his own. He found Gnar's wide charcoal brown eyes gazing at him, with a wide smile that made his heart feel uplifted. The mage felt his lips smile in return, regaining his soft composure as he squeezed Gnar's hand back, feeling his warm fur mingling with his own.

What was he going to do…? Veigar became lost in thought, returning to eating his plate of food. The others fell back into various conversations of things to do around the city, and Veigar became lost in his thoughts.

After what seemed to be minutes passing into their morning breakfast, the mage suddenly sensed a devious presence behind him. Before he could turn his head, he heard someone shuffle and sit right beside him on the bench, gently bumped into his shoulder and almost causing him to choke on his food, coughing and painfully swallowing before turned his gaze upon a familiar blue creature.

"Hi there!", said Fizz with a wide smile. "You alright? Don't pass out on me now!" The tidal trickster patted the mage's back, trying unsuccessfully to help him get over his coughing fit.

Veigar gave the fishy creature a very suspicious look, not trusting him at all. "Hello there, Fizz", he replied a little cautiously.

"Oh, you two have already met?", Tristana asked surprised.

"Yeah we have!", Fizz exclaimed. "We became such good friends right off the bat, isn't that right, _Logan_?" He gave a very strange sort of smile that unnerved Veigar, unlike before. Veigar also noticed how uncomfortably close the trickster sat besides himself.

"Wow, that's… that's great!", Tristana replied, a little hesitant this time. She wasn't aware that Logan was kind enough to befriend someone as devious as Fizz was. It wasn't like Fizz was a criminal or anything, but his antics were enough to annoy most people, and it was also difficult to be considered a good friend of Fizz until you knew him for some time. Had Logan really made such an impression on the trickster that fast?

Teemo and Rumble were observing the whole exchange with confused expressions. Gnar was apparently in the process of passing out where he was sitting, laying down and leaning towards Veigar, his furry head finding the mage's lap and using it as a pillow. Veigar was startled at first, but quickly put his hand gently upon Gnar's head, scratching and massaging his ears, eliciting more purrs out of the youngling.

"Wow, so Gnar really likes you, huh? I wish I was in his position right now, hehe!", Fizz stated in a very straightforward way, somehow sneakily scooching closer and pressing his shoulder up against Veigar's. Unfortunately, because Gnar was resting his head upon his lap, Veigar couldn't move away and found himself trapped in an awkward situation.

"Yes… I've taken care of Gnar for some time, since he seems too young to be on his own", the mage stated bluntly, keeping his eyes on Fizz and wondering what he was up to. The other yordles sitting across the table watched the exchange between the mage and the trickster, not really thinking much of it and eating their own plates of food.

"Hey, maybe I can get some food!", Fizz said rather suddenly. "Can I get some of those yummy looking pancakes, innkeeper?" The trickster got the innkeeper's attention as he walked by, looking at their table rather hesitantly.

"Oh, hello there Fizz", the innkeeper sighed. "Do you have any money this time, or are you going to steal more pancakes?"

"What? I promised I wouldn't do that again", Fizz said a little guiltily (though Veigar suspected he was faking the guilt).

"Well, perhaps if you pay for it this time, we won't have a problem then!", the innkeeper stated matter-of-factly.

"I don't have any money on me though", the trickster replied truthfully. He really didn't have anything on him. Didn't even bring his trident with him, and he was sort of… well, naked. He was like that all the time, pretty much, and it took other yordles some getting used to. Veigar was still trying to get used to it, considering Fizz was still sitting so uncomfortably close to him.

"I have any spare gold on me for you, Fizz, ummm…", Tristana said, trying to search through her pockets for any spare change.

"I can pay for him."

Everyone looked at the mage as he stated those words. He fished some gold coins out of his robe pockets, holding them out to the innkeeper, who hesitated at first before accepting the payment. Even Fizz was a little surprised at the mage's sudden generosity, and soon enough, the innkeeper placed a plate of Bandle pancakes before the trickster.

"Wow, umm… thanks for that", Fizz said a little sheepishly, a strange shade of purple filling his cheeks, which Veigar realized was a blush.

"Don't mention it. Enjoy!", he replied with his soft smile.

Fizz gathered himself quickly and began to help himself to his meal, scooching away just a little bit so he could give the mage some eating space.

Veigar didn't really know why he decided to do that. Did he think that by being nice, he was suddenly going to be forgiven of all his past wrongdoings? Why was he being so nice to someone like Fizz? He felt his mind becoming filled with dark thoughts all of a sudden, and he shook his head to rid himself of them. To distract himself, he turned his attention back to the prehistoric yordle resting on his lap, gently stroking the sleeping Gnar's cheeks and grooming his facial furs. He felt the dark thoughts slowly go away as he focused on Gnar's sleeping face. He found comfort then…

Soon enough, everyone at the table had finished their breakfast and was basically entering their version of a food coma, engaging in light conversation with one another, Tristana bugging Rumble about how his mech was doing and causing him to blush, with Teemo watching the exchange a little jealously. Veigar had finished his own plate, and was focusing on stroking Gnar's furs and ears, bringing out another purr from Gnar every now and then.

Veigar felt Fizz poke his side again with a webbed finger, causing him to turn his attention curiously towards the trickster.

Fizz seemed to be a little more cautious this time, as he asked, "What are you doing in Bandle City anyways?"

Veigar saw no harm in giving some information for once. "Well, I **was** here on some business for discussing the recent storm we've been having… but now that it's seemingly gone for now, I'm not really sure. I seem to be without a purpose currently."

Fizz gazed at the mage thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could stay in Bandle and make your home here! I mean, it is your home right? Since you're a yordle?"

"I live elsewhere outside of Bandle, actually", Veigar replied.

"Oh yeah?", the trickster responded with a surprised look in his eyes. "Where do you live?"

"Pretty far away, in the forest."

"How'd you get here then?"

"Magic."

Fizz glared at him for a bit, causing Veigar to smirk a little teasingly this time.

"I'm not kidding, I teleported near the city."

"Alright, alright", Fizz said, feeling a smile creep back on his face again. "Do you think you'll ever go back?"

"Eventually… it's something I haven't decided on yet", Veigar said with a sigh.

"I wish you'd stay with me!", Fizz said in nonchalant fashion.

"What?", the mage said startled. He saw Fizz quickly look away, a light shade of purple once again creeping into his blue cheeks.

Before he could question the trickster further, Veigar was interrupted by Tristana grabbing his attention.

"Hey, Logan, what do you say to giving a visit to the mayor anyways?"

The yordle mage gave a rather surprised look. "When?"

Tristana glanced at Teemo for a second, who shrugged at her. "What do you say to an hour from now?"

Veigar thought about it briefly, before shrugging as well. "I guess I don't see a problem to it." He glanced down at Gnar and figured he could carry the slumbering yordle back to the inn room and lay him in bed.

"Going to be leaving soon then, Tristy?", Rumble asked. "I'll probably be heading back to my workshop then to continue on a project of mine."

"Sure thing, Rumblers!", Tristana poked back, causing the mohawked mechanic to blush once again at the nickname.

"I guess I'll get ready, then", Veigar stated. He was about to pick up Gnar and carry him off to their room when he glanced to the side when he remembered Fizz.

But when he looked, Fizz was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

After setting Gnar cozily in the bed, petting the youngling some more and making sure he was as comfortable as possible, Veigar readied himself for the meeting that was to come. He made sure he looked decent enough in the mirror before heading out of his room and down the stairs, exiting the Bandle Inn and joining Teemo and Tristana who were waiting for him outside.

They set out together, walking through Bandle City and admiring how the sun was peeking more through the clouds than it was earlier that morning. Even the yordle denizens that they passed by were in better spirits than before, and Veigar couldn't help but smile at the warm feelings rising up inside him. It sure felt better than before, since the atmosphere of the city was a little different and darker when the sky was completely overcast. He could only hope that it may stay that way for many days to come.

They soon approached the mayor's building, and the three of them were greeted by some guards who opened the doors for them, and headed inside.

Guided through the large building by an elderly yordle butler, they finally ended up in a nice looking office where the mayor himself sat at a desk, dressed in some nice looking clothes. He greeted the new arrivals, recognizing Teemo and Tristana.

"Welcome, welcome…", the mayor said with a tired but eager voice. The three of them gave a respectful bow to the old yordle mayor. "And are you the prestigious mage that I have heard much about?"

Veigar smiled with mild embarrassment as he realized the mayor was addressing him. "Oh, I am anything but prestigious, please. You can call me Logan", the mage replied in as respectful a tone as he could muster. As he gazed back into the mayor's eyes, he couldn't help but notice the strange way the mayor looked at him. He felt the mayor look deep into his own eyes, and he almost shivered at the thought of someone looking into his own soul.

"Yes, yes… I have heard much about you from our wonderful scout, Teemo, just a couple of days ago. You must have traveled far to come to Bandle City!", the mayor stated confidently.

"Oh, it was nothing, really. It was a pleasing experience to be back in Bandle City for once, and seeing the generosity of Teemo and Tristana", the mage responded, glancing at his two companions with nothing but endless gratitude in his eyes.

"Back in Bandle City, you say… where are you from anyways, Logan?", the mayor inquired politely.

"I live in a private abode some ways away, where I study magic on my own. I'm afraid I can't remember much of my past, as my family were long gone when I was but a young yordle." Veigar gazed down at the floor, getting a little uncomfortable on the inside thinking about his past. He could honestly say he didn't remember his parents much. Anything that had happened while he was young really was lost in his memory, so that much he wasn't lying about.

"I see… well it's very nice to see you here now. I understand since the storm has passed for now, you may have come back here to Bandle for no reason, though I do not think that is the case", the mayor replied, gazing down at his desk before him and looking through some papers before him.

"Well, that may be the case", Tristana piped up, "but we figured we could talk to you about our findings regardless."

The mayor gave a nod towards the Bandle gunner. She continued, "Logan as theorized that the storm may have originated from a certain location elsewhere in Valoran, and that we would require a higher vantage point in order to locate the source. We came to the conclusion that we may have had to make a trip over to Piltover in order to borrow the use of the advanced tech that Heimerdinger and the Yordle college may have at their disposal. Considering the storm is gone now, perhaps we won't have to worry about it for now, but just in case it returns…"

"Yes, that sounds like something we can consider for when it does indeed return", the mayor said in agreement with Tristana's words. "What do you suppose you'll do in the meantime then, Logan? You are a guest in our city after all."

"I'm not quite sure of that, honestly… I feel like I would be overstepping by staying too long, especially since my two friends here have taken care of me and Gnar so well."

"Ah yes, you have been taking care of Gnar yourself? He's always been a tricky one to take care of", the mayor said, causing Veigar to glance back into the mayor's eyes. The mage suddenly remembered what that guard had said when he first got to Bandle City. Gnar was being watched by the authorities… was it the mayor himself who authorized that?

"He didn't seem like he would be alright on his own… so yes, I took him in. I sort of care about him a lot at this point, and I don't think he wants to be parted from me at this rate either." Veigar heard the shuffling of some footsteps outside of the office, barely out of the corner of his hearing. He didn't think much of it.

Veigar got a little more unnerved when he saw the mayor staring at his face once again. Looking at the mayor's eyes, he realized that the aged yordle's eyes was trailing over his facial features, searching for something. What was he searching for?

"What are you really here for?", the mayor asked quizzically.

"What do you mean, sir?", Veigar inquired with a confused look. There was something that wasn't right. It was then that he sensed the presence of some yordle guards standing outside of the office. He glanced to the side at Teemo and Tristana, who were also confused and gazing back at him.

Veigar felt the mayor's eyes gaze into his own again. Felt those tired yet alert eyes peer into his own, and again felt that feeling of his soul being exposed. What was this feeling? Why was he feeling it? It was then that some sort of dread began to creep up his back and along his spine, sending a shivering feeling that made him shuffle from one foot to the other, displaying some discomfort. He hadn't felt this way since…

The mage couldn't take it anymore. "Excuse me, good mayor, but… may I ask why you are staring at me like that?"

The mayor smiled softly, but this time, there was a strange sadness in the smile. A tinge of sadness and something else, as he opened his mouth again and spoke.

"Perhaps I'll repeat myself again, and ask of you once more… What are you really here for…

… Veigar?"


	12. Chapter 11 - Shattered Crystals (OLD)

"This is going to be impossible to finish."

At least, that's what the normal, boring yordle inside him was telling him. However, the creative, almost mechanical part of his mind told him it could be done. Reminded him of what he had done before. Persisted that he finish the work he set out before himself. "Impossible" was a word that he hated. Because nothing was really impossible, no. Not to him of all yordles.

Using an arm to wipe a bead of sweat away and pull back his mohawk, Rumble continued laboring on his project that he had set off to complete. He had toiled for hours, days even, drawing out the blueprint for his newest creation. He had taken a break on it for awhile, mostly due to the despair that resulted from losing his favorite wrench, but now that Logan had somehow miraculously returned it to him, the yordle mechanic finally felt that spark of inspiration light up in his mind. This was something he needed to finish. If he managed to create this, everyone wouldn't ever doubt him ever again. If people thought his last mech Tristy was a beauty, just wait and see…

He cursed once again as he hit another little stump in his design process. The materials Rumble required for his new project are going to be difficult to acquire, as only the Yordle Academy of Progress in Piltover will have the rarest and most expensive metals and parts. The mechanic frowned at that thought, since he loathed them with a passion. Yordles who have to leave Bandle City and donate their talent and creativity to the humans of Piltover only to get a pat on the head. Rumble curled up his hand into a fist, silently cursing Heimderdinger, who was probably the main reason so many had left Bandle City to the "city of progress" Piltover.

Rumble shook his head once again. He couldn't think about stuff like that, for it was a distraction to him. Although he really wished he could get those materials somehow. The Bandle City junkyard could only have so many rarities and gadgets for him to draw upon for his inventions. But he he had to find a way to make do… he just had to!

The mechanic sighed and stood up from his work, deciding he needed a break for now. He was getting a little heated up from all this thinking, and needed some fresh air. The inside atmosphere of his house probably wasn't helping, since he had done a poor job of cleaning the dang place. He had to step over a bunch of random objects on the ground, such as gears, gizmos, wrenches, blueprints, and god knows what else. He would clean it later, he told himself (like a thousand times).

Rumble promptly left his home, locking the door behind himself and heading once more to the junkyard. Making trips like this have become very regular lately, since there was never an end to the treasures he could find. Well, things that other yordles considered trash, but he considered them salvageable. Because of that very reason, he picked a home that was in the forest outskirts of Bandle City, close enough to make an easy trip to the junkyard, but also not far away enough that visiting the city itself wasn't too difficult. Rumble glanced up at the sky, noting how the rays of sun were still peeking through the clouds and leaking past the forest canopy. He was grateful for that. The rain and endless overcast skies didn't sit that well with him, and the sun made him feel a lot better inside. Not that he didn't mind a light drizzle every now and then, of course.

The yordle mechanic soon found himself at the entrance to the Bandle junkyard, which had tall fences surrounding the perimeter. Rumble unfastened the chains keeping the gates shut and swung them wide open, entering and getting a small whiff of the musty and dirty smelling atmosphere, glancing about everywhere and seeing piles upon piles of various things deemed unfit by yordle society, such as old furniture, rusted metal parts, empty oil containers, and other almost ancient looking junk. While most never came here besides those who really needed to get rid of stuff, Rumble had become very acquainted with the junkyard in a way others would never understand. He literally started with almost nothing, and scavenged his way through the junkyard in order to become the mechanic he was today. He took things such as old, scratched focusing lenses, something that others thought useless, and found creative ways to restore them back to working condition, almost as if the damage had never been done in the first place. If Rumble really wanted to, getting into the Yordle Academy of Progress would have been a piece of Bandle cake to him, not even requiring any effort on his part. Perhaps that was a little arrogant of him to think that way, but considering what was available to him, it was not really all that prideful.

What he was looking for was rare metals, certain kinds of steel and iron that weren't too far gone and rusted away from lingering in the junkyard for too long. He could find the occasional gem every now and then, but nowadays, it was getting too difficult for him to strike a lucky mark. He was starting to lose hope again, becoming filled with despair that he may never get to finish his newest project. The thoughts of his scared him, scared him as much as a yordle parent losing his most precious child to the Void. It terrified him beyond bounds, but it was in such a way that he knew he had to prevent it from happening. There's no way he would give up, no sir. To give up would be for him to give up on everything he had lived for. If he gave up, it meant Heimerdinger really was right in thinking that Rumble wasn't meant to do great things. If he gave up, he really would have been the runt of all yordles. He would never lose hope in himself. With a bound of confidence, he continued his search, persisting to continue his scavenging trip for more hours to come.

It only took a few more minutes, however, when Rumble felt a drop of water fall onto his head. He slipped off one of his greasy mechanic's gloves and sent his bare hand through his hair, feeling a little damp spot from where the drop had hit him. Rumble shortly looked up and saw something he had hoped not to see today. The rays of sunlight were shrinking slowly, losing their light and becoming replaced by those dreadful overcast clouds once more. Those dark grey clouds could only mean one thing, and Rumble sighed at his rotten luck.

"It looks like it's going to rain again."

* * *

It was like an icy hand had slowly stroked down his spine, chilling him to his frail bones and whispering into his ear. It was as if the very candle in his fragile mind had almost been snuffed out by someone rude enough to interrupt a sacred and divine ceremony. He felt cold and chilled inside, the warmth almost leaving his scarred body despite the warm temperature of the room he resided in. Everything else seemed to fade, and he was almost one hundred percent certain that the shadows were back once more to haunt him. The presence of those beside him seemed to slip farther and farther away from him, and left him, once more in his life, truly and utterly alone.

Veigar stood there for what seemed like minutes, but really was only a few seconds, before he nervously uttered, "E-excuse me?"

The mayor sat there at his desk, shifting in his seat again as he repeated himself.

"Veigar."

How could it be?

"What are you planning on doing here in Bandle City, Veigar?"

It was impossible.

"I'm sure it looks like you've come here on more peaceful intentions than you are used to, but I still can't help but be very suspicious."

He was one hundred percent certain that no one would remember him. By purposely not having a disguising shroud over his face, he was sure no one would recognize him. It had been years. **Years**.

The mage cleared his throat again before finally responding. "How?"

The mayor gave a sad smile. "I'm sure you must be surprised and very curious, yes. You have grown a great deal, and I know that there is probably no one else who would remember. But I have been a mayor for a **long** time, Veigar, and I never forget eyes like those."

Eyes. Veigar remembered that dreadful feeling when he looked into the mayor's eyes. How the mayor saw through him. It was then that he realized that the mayor **recognized** him. That was the feeling he had been dreading.

Veigar couldn't stop shaking. He felt startled when he heard some shuffling behind him and realized a couple of the guards standing outside had entered the room, posting by the door. He glanced back at them and saw them watching him fiercely. What were they going to do to him?

As he turned his head again, his eyes caught sight of Teemo and Tristana, whom he had almost completely forgotten about. Their expressions seared into his mind. Teemo's expression was unreadable, and his eyes closely watched Veigar's with newfound suspicion. Of course he would. Veigar had always felt loathed by Teemo in the past, due to his past crimes he had committed. He had always considered Teemo a rival, but now… he didn't know if he saw him the same way anymore after being able to talk to him on friendlier terms. But now, despite Teemo displaying barely any emotion, Veigar could detect a hint of betrayal in them. A look that knew he was lied to.

Veigar's eyes passed over Tristana's. Her expression was different, and seemed to be utterly shocked. She watched his with a mixture of fear and confusion, not really knowing how to feel about the revelation. Seeing her expression caused a sharp pang of guilty to shoot through his soul, and he could only wonder what she must be thinking of him right now. All of those things he had said, the way he carried himself, how nice he seemed… but that was the keyword, wasn't it. Veigar wondered how much of it was actually genuine, or was he really just putting on a mask the whole time and lying to their faces?

Veigar stood alone in this, as he turned his eyes back to the mayor. The mayor had been watching him the whole time, curious about his next move.

"So what happens now?" Veigar asked with barely a hint of composure. He wondered if he really didn't want to know, and could feel that something was about to break loose. Everything was about to go to hell soon enough.

"Well, I'm not too sure about that, Veigar", the mayor replied. "All things considered, you came here on rather unusually peaceful terms, even on the intention of providing assistance on matters we were struggling with. Were it not for your past actions, perhaps said things would have been overlooked, but seeing you here now… those very past actions are being called to question now."

Veigar heard the guard's footsteps behind him. Closing in on him. He realized they didn't intend to let him leave. Why did everything have to come to this? He could sense the hostility in the air, and he realized he had to make a move now.

While he didn't have his staff on him, which assisted in channeling more complicated spells, Veigar was sure his bare magic would be more than enough. He quickly turned facing the guards with his arms outstretched, focusing in his mind past all of the stress, making the guards quickly turn defensive. However, Veigar froze and became stumped when nothing happened. He couldn't feel his magic anymore. Nothing came out of his outstretched palms.

"Yes, we didn't come unprepared for this encounter, Veigar."

The mage turned his head towards the mayor once more, realizing that something in the room was locking down magic and preventing its use in its proximity.

"While I'm sorry to have taken such measures, I'm sure you can understand how we can't have any of that dark magic bothering us here, no no." The mayor stood up from his chair, waving at the guards to signal them, as they continued their approach on the helpless and defenseless mage.

Veigar's mind raced. No, he couldn't be captured here. He had never intended for this to happen, not like this. He despaired inside, and felt his mind becoming clouded. Clouded with those dark thoughts again as he slowly backed away from the approaching guards, backing away to one of the room's corners and slowly becoming trapped.

 _You're weak, Veigar._

Something in the yordle mage's mind snapped, and he cried out in pain, stumbling and falling to one knee, kneeling on the floor and clutching his head with a hand.

 _Their attempts to bind your magic are hopeless, but it's simply because you've purposely weakened yourself that you can't use your magic now. You're hopeless._

His head flared up in pain as he felt the darkness creeping in again. Everyone in the room watched him in confusion, as they weren't sure why Veigar suddenly cried out in pain. The guards nervously slowed their approach, but didn't completely stop their advance.

 _You're a worthless sack of shit, Veigar_.

Shut up.

 _You've turned your back on the darkness, the darkness that fueled you with endless power, but now what have you left?_

Quiet. Please stop.

 _You have no friends in this world._

A pair of charcoal brown eyes. A feeling of warm, orange furred hands upon his own.

Something suddenly flared up in the mage's mind, quickly regaining his senses temporarily. The darkness receded into the far corners of his subconscious.

He quickly looked around the room, and noticed sunlight coming from the window behind him. Sunlight that was quickly receding, becoming replaced by overcast clouds once more, with rain already beginning to batter against the window. They were, however, on the third story floor of this building, so no one would have ever suspected, would they?

Veigar stood up from his kneeling position and quickly made a beeline for the window, sprinting. He heard a gasp from Tristana, and heard the mayor cry out, "Veigar, wait! No!"

The guards couldn't even react and catch him in time as Veigar brought his arms up in front of his face, and jumped, diving almost headfirst into the window.

The window shattered, and Veigar felt incredibly sharp and searing pain in his arms, shielding his face from the glass. The pain quickly numbed as adrenaline had already pumped through his veins, crashing through the window and out into open space.

It was as if time slowed. Endless shards of glass floated around him. Droplets of water fell beside him. Veigar looked down, and saw how very far the ground looked below him. In the span of a mere second, Veigar wondered. Veigar pondered. He marveled at how small he really was, in such a big and immense world such as his. His eyes swiveled and glanced about, marveling at the shiny shards of glass and droplets of rain, which appeared as crystals to him. He realized how very beautiful this world was.

Beautiful, like shattered crystals.

And then he fell.

Veigar felt his magic return to him, but could barely use it to straighten himself up again flying through the air as he fell very fast towards the hard ground, and managed to land on his feet. Alas, his momentum was too strong, and with a loud grunt, he hit the ground hard, feeling sharp burning sensations in his legs as he tumbled and rolled across the ground, skidding and tumbling many feet violently down the Bandle City road until he finally slowed to a stop.

He felt nothing. His body felt heavy. He lay curled up in his side, not seeing much besides a few yordle citizens at the side of the street staring at him as if he had come out of nowhere. Veigar's eyes glanced about, looking back where he had come from and finding the window he had crashed through. He saw the mayor and Tristana's faces, somewhat blurred, but clearly visible to him. He didn't know what the mayor was thinking, but he could tell that Tristana was even more shocked by his action than the revelation of who he was.

There was no time for him to think anymore as he glanced down across the road and saw some more yordle guards running towards him. It didn't look like they were ready to give up just yet.

Veigar tried to move, tried to get his legs up from underneath him, but they felt heavy. They felt like stiff rocks that couldn't be lifted. He tried to move his arms, but the effort required was immense. He could faintly see blotches of red seeping through his arm sleeves, torn up, and he realized there was glass sticking out of his arms as well. He was surprised he wasn't in complete and utter pain, but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered that this was nothing compared to what he had dealt with before.

With more effort, he finally moved one of his arms. It was numbed, and could barely feel anything, but there was no time to think. Veigar quickly drew something into the ground, drawing upon whatever magic he could muster, and cast his teleportation spell mere seconds before the guards reached him.

With a flash of light, everything turned into nothing for a split second, and Bandle City completely disappeared around him. With another flash of light that blinded him, Veigar felt his body crash into the side of some pile of junk, and once more tumbled down a steep slope and making quite a ruckus for some amount of time that he lost track of. None of it really mattered to him at this point.

He finally stopped his fall after sliding onto a patch of ground that was incredibly muddy compared to the stone streets of Bandle, and everything turned silent once more, save for the sound of raindrops falling around. Veigar lay on his back, gazing up at the sky above him. He supposed that without much time to think of an actual destination, he had teleported to some random location that he couldn't recognize yet. He felt raindrops hitting his dark furry face, distracting him from thinking about it too much.

He couldn't feel his body. He didn't really want to, anyways. He wished he could escape his body. His body was merely a vessel, a prison cell for which his soul was imprisoned within. But as Veigar lay there on the ground, he gazed up at the sky, and saw the dark grey clouds. Others would probably see rain and clouds as a dark omen, but he… he found comfort in them. The sound of rain around him brought him peace. The feel of rain tickling his cheeks, chin, forehead, ears, nose, and eyes. It was like the world was weeping for him. Veigar hadn't had anyone cry for him before, so he liked to imagine that when it rained, the very world was weeping for him. The very stars shed their tears for him. Wept for little, lonely Veigar. He smiled at that thought, and it made him cry as well.

After many minutes of laying there, Veigar realized he couldn't lay there forever. He needed to get up, and find his friends again. He had friends, right? He could vaguely remember those charcoal brown eyes once again. Those eyes gave him comfort, and he realized he had something to fight for.

The second his tried to raise his arms, he winced in pain as a burning sensation prevented him from using his muscles. Not that he had much muscle in the first place, for he wasn't exactly the most fit yordle. Veigar suddenly felt very weary, and his eyes began to slowly seal themselves shut.

The last thing he saw was the beautiful sight of the rain falling from the sky, the clouds shedding their tears for their little yordle Veigar, before the darkness finally took him once more.

* * *

Tristana couldn't believe her eyes when it happened. How the mage had suddenly flung himself out the window, smashing through it and sending glass everywhere. She ran over to the shattered window just in time to see the yordle mage tumble across the ground down the street. She held her hands over her mouth as she saw how bloodied he was. How could someone live from that fall? She watched as the guards quickly made their way down the street, intent on capturing Veigar before he could do anything. Tristana saw Veigar glance up at the window and meet her eyes. She could've swore she saw a smile on his lips, before he drew something in the ground, and a great flash of white flared up, causing all the guards and even Tristana herself to shield her eyes from the luminosity. When she looked back, Veigar was gone.

She faintly heard the mayor behind her, swearing under his breath. Heard him order Teemo to send a message to all guards about searching for him. In the back of her mind, however, she realized what the mayor was doing was pointless. If that really was Veigar…

She still couldn't believe it. After all this time. She didn't know what to think. Tristana still felt confusion swell within her, and didn't know how to feel at all. Was she feeling betrayed or…

Was she only feeling more curious?

* * *

Veigar felt warm once more. His eyelids still felt heavy, but he could tell that he lay upon a bed, with some bed sheets covering his body. He could tell he wasn't wearing a shirt, though was still wearing some pants at least. He still couldn't move his arms without an immense amount of pain shooting through them, and could feel them wrapped completely in bandages. Whoever had put them on him had done a piss poor job, however, and glancing down, Veigar slowly opened his eyes and glanced down to his sides. He could see splotches of red dampening the cloth. At least it was better than nothing. Veigar wasn't even sure of the extent of damage that was done to his body.

The mage glanced about the room he was in, trying to get his bearings. He resided on a couch, inside what appeared to be a living room, with a table in the middle and a dusty looking TV on the wall opposite him. There was random articles and newspapers covering the floor, and he got the impression that whoever owned this place wasn't very good at cleaning.

He crashed his head onto the pillow once more, frustrated that he couldn't move. Whatever happened to him, or whoever "saved" him, he felt incredibly helpless and vulnerable. He couldn't use his arms. He didn't even know if he could walk, given how hard he had fallen out of a third story window. Veigar hated feeling this helpless, and he wondered where the others were.

As he thought about the others, he felt the darkness in his mind creeping up again. What did Teemo think of him? Tristana? Where were they now? Where the hell was he? Was Gnar ok? Was everyone in Bandle City searching for him once more, a fugitive banished once more from his old home?

Veigar felt his thoughts interrupted before the darkness fully crept back into his mind again as he heard some activity from the next room over. He heard some pans banging on each other, and could faintly smell something cooking. The mage heard footsteps, making their way closer until someone entered the room he was in.

He held his breath until he recognized who that blue mohawk belonged to. It was Rumble.

Rumble stopped where he was when he noticed Veigar was staring at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitantly shut it, not sure what to say. The mechanic had a tired look in his eyes that made Veigar suspect the worst.

Rumble walked forward into the room, grabbing a chair and dragging it slowly across the carpet, sitting just a couple of feet away from the mage.

The mechanic cleared his throat, before awkwardly saying, "Hey."

"R-rumble…", Veigar stuttered almost as awkwardly. He heard his own voice crack, and he realized that he must've been parched for water for some time.

"I didn't know when you would wake up, but I guess I'm glad that you are now. I'm, uh, cooking some soup and stuff soon, and I'm sure you would want some water as well…?" the mechanic trailed off.

Veigar timidly nodded his head, not used to being in such a helpless position, but Rumble nodded as well and got up from his chair, going back into what Veigar presumed was the kitchen. Rumble returned promptly with a bottle of water and pulled the chair even closer so that he could sit right beside the couch. He unscrewed the cap and held it up to Veigar's lips, which made the mage realize he probably couldn't even lift his arms up for something as simple as water. Veigar shyly parted his lips, and Rumble gently put the water bottle to the mage's mouth, letting some water trickle into Veigar's mouth and down his throat. That water felt so good to Veigar, as he felt it traveling down his parched throat, almost caressing his insides and invigorating him. Rumble let him swallow a bit before repeating the process, the whole thing lasting a few minutes before Veigar was finally satisfied, having drunk the whole bottle.

The mage cleared his throat. "Thank you…"

Rumble nodded and put the bottle aside on the table behind him, before turning back to the mage. "Umm… how are you feeling?"

"Like crap. But to be honest, this isn't nothing compared to… well, you know." Veigar figured Rumble had no idea what he was talking about.

A thought came to his mind, and Veigar was afraid to ask. "Hey, are you uh…"

"Aware? Yeah, I'm aware." Rumble awkwardly shifted in his seat, but didn't look away from Veigar's yellow eyes.

"Then why are you helping me?" Veigar couldn't help but wonder.

"Maybe I just felt like returning a favor."

"I returned your wrench to you, so you're saving my life? Seems like a pretty big stretch."

"Are you being ungrateful? Sheesh."

"I'm just sure there's a little more to it than that, considering who I really am."

Rumble sighed, realizing how stubborn the mage was. "Well, with everything I've heard about you, and then finally meeting you… something just doesn't add up."

Veigar looked Rumble in the eyes, looked into the depths of the mechanic's orange hued eyes, and realized he was being sincere. Rumble stared back, unafraid of those yellow eyes gazing into his own, though he got the feeling that his very soul was being examined.

"I don't really know why I'm helping you, Veigar. But it feels like the right thing to do right now." Rumble crossed his arms and remained firm in his statement. Veigar turned his eyes back to the ceiling, and a look of guilt crossed over his dark furred face.

"I never thought I'd deserve help from anyone", Veigar stated bluntly.

"That's bullshit. No one deserves to really be alone in this world… at least that's what I believe", Rumble shot back at him. "Are you ok?"

The mage chuckled a bit, causing him to wince again and shut his eyes in pain, but a smile remained on his face nonetheless. "If only you knew what I've been through these past few years."

"I think that's actually the problem, Veigar." The mage turned his gaze back towards the mechanic, a curious look upon his face now.

Rumble cleared his throat again. "I mean, no one knows what you've really gone through, or where you've even come from. You sort of appeared out of nowhere and began boasting about doing evil things and inflicting pain on others, making a lot of people in Bandle City worried for their wellbeing. While you haven't like, killed anyone or anything, you've committed enough crimes against Bandle to be arrested on sight."

Veigar's gaze never wavered, never leaving Rumble's eyes as he continued. "So for you to appear in Bandle City again out of nowhere, and be acting completely different, it would seem pretty suspicious to those who found out. I would have assumed you were up to no good, except you went out of your way to return something to me that to others would appear pretty useless towards. The way you carry yourself… something has changed within you, hasn't it?"

Veigar wondered just what it was Rumble was doing, going out of his way to help him. "I don't really know, Rumble. I myself haven't figured out why I'm doing the things I'm doing. Maybe I really have lost my mind and gone batshit insane."

"I want to help you."

Veigar looked at Rumble incredulously. "Help me? How are you going to do that, might I wonder?"

"I want to help you figure stuff out."

Something finally clicked within Veigar's mind. Something he had been lacking. He never really had anyone to talk to, had he? Of course he had Gnar to talk to, but the problem there was Gnar couldn't quite communicate back. Veigar's eyes softened, as he turned back to once more stare at the ceiling, wondering what would happen next.

"Ok", Veigar muttered wearily. Rumble looked at the mage, but saw how tired and exhausted he looked, and figured he shouldn't press Veigar further about it for the time being. He sat there on the chair beside the couch for a while longer, before remembering that he was cooking some soup. He got up and went to the kitchen, filling two bowls for himself and for his guest.

This was going to be a long day for the two of them.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey all. This was a strange chapter for me to write, as it made me partially remember why I'm writing this story.**

 **I guess the only thing I wish to say is there I relate myself to Veigar in more ways than some people realize, and in some of these chapters, I channel my every emotion and every fiber in my being, translating those into text on a computer screen.**

 **I only hope that you are enjoying the story so far. Thank you for reading!**


	13. Chapter 12 - Limbo (OLD)

Ba _-dump_.

It was too eerily familiar. The corners of the room became home to shadows once more. Ominous tendrils creep through the floor, the walls, the ceiling, spreading their taint and corruption without boundaries. Voices made themselves heard, whispering, echoing through the halls of Rumble's home. All of these dark forces combined seemed to be creeping their way slowly. Advancing on their vulnerable target.

Unfortunately for Veigar, he had nothing to defend himself with. Once Rumble had finished helping the mage finish his soup, the mechanic had to excuse himself to sleep. The bandages on Veigar's arms were replaced by fresh ones (this time in a more proper manner, per Veigar's bemused request), and Rumble made sure the yordle mage was comfortable for the night on the couch. The couch itself was alright, though it's appearance gave off the assumption that it had been worn out for years, appearing ragged and torn in places. With enough blankets and pillows, it would suffice for the recovering mage.

His arms still pained him too much for movement. He had suffered numerous puncture wounds and vicious tears from crashing through that window, using his arms to shield his face and body from worse injuries, but sacrificing his arms almost entirely. When he crashed to the ground, using his legs to break his fall, his ankles became severely sprained, and his legs had almost suffered a fracture. Veigar could even feel that his spinal cord possibly suffered from the tumble that resulted afterwards, as he could barely tilt his neck to either side, and trying to even sit up made his back ache and cry out in protest. He didn't know how long it would take for him to recover, as Rumble couldn't really give him a proper medical diagnosis. For now, he was stuck here, laying on this couch in Rumble's dainty, dusty apartment-like house. Better than being stuck out in the mud under the rain in the middle of a junkyard, Veigar figured, or being stuck in a jail cell in the custody of Bandle City authorities.

But it seemed no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape his own shadows.

He was always aware of their presence. Those shadows lurking in the darkest corners of the room. His eyes had grown overly accustomed to the dark, becoming a unique shade of yellow that glowed brightly whenever he used his Dark magic. His eyes could clearly see those that other mortal eyes shouldn't ever have to see. Things that would be called the essence of nightmares, of creatures that lurked under the bed. The monsters that resided in the alternate dimension known only as the Void paled in comparison to the things Veigar's yellow eyes had seen.

He watched those shadows out of the corner of his eye. He despaired since he couldn't move his arms, forced to keep them at his side. The blanket that Rumble placed over him before he went to sleep barely came up to his neck, and Veigar childishly wished he could at least hide his face under the covers. Because even that thin layer of false protection would be better than being stuck here on this couch, forced to watch as the tendrils of Darkness crept ever closer to his mortal shell.

Veigar couldn't contain himself anymore. He opened his mouth and attempted to speak, hoping to maybe wake up Rumble, who slept in a room down the hall. However, when he tried to utter a word, it came out hoarse and raspy, as if the yordle mage hadn't drank water for days. He couldn't utter a single syllable. He took a gasping breath of air, becoming desperate, and tried to shout, but he merely wheezed and coughed, unable to voice his fear. His mind raced, trying once again to speak, to shout, to yell, to cry out, to **scream**.

The only thing that came out was a whimper.

For only Darkness kept him company for this long night.

Ba- _dump_.

* * *

It seemed as if time became irrationally distorted as soon as the rain returned. The clouds overhead turned the very skies a dark grey, and obscured all rays of sunshine that had been present from before. Through the streets of Bandle City, filled with puddles resulting from the crashing downpour of drops that almost felt like tiny bullets, a lone yordle hurried towards the Bandle Inn, desperate to escape the wet onslaught.

In a rush, Tristana unceremoniously crashed open the doors entering the Bandle Inn, only to remember her manners and shut the doors gently afterwards out of courtesy. The innkeeper, who was in the middle of mopping up the floors of the dining area, looked up surprised at the sheyordle's abrupt entrance.

A little out of breath, Tristana took a few seconds before addressing the innkeeper. "I need to ask of you a favor, it's _really_ important."

The innkeeper needed, knowing full well when Tristana meant business. "Of course, anything you need dear."

"Where is Gnar? I need to see him."

"Oh, the little one? He was passed out for most of the day, though heavens if it seems to have passed by so fast."

"You aren't alone in thinking that", Tristana sighed in agreement.

The innkeeper's ears perked. "What do you need to see Gnar for?"

"I just need to assure that he's safe."

"I mean, if it really is of important matters, I would feel obliged to assist, but it would really be more appropriate if Logan checked on him, yes?"

Tristana's eyes drooped to the ground for a second, deciding she'd need to break the news.

"Something rather drastic has happened, actually… it appears that the mage who calls himself Logan actually goes by the name Veigar."

"What?!", the innkeeper gasped in utter shock at the revelation.

"Yes, it came as a shock to me as well…" the gunner muttered softly, "However, something doesn't add up, and I _really_ need to see Gnar. And, as unlikely as it may seem, I need some sort of confirmation from the little critter as well. I hope you'll understand."

"I fully understand the necessity of it, sweetie. Follow me to their room", the innkeeper briskly said, taking off towards the stairs with Tristana close behind.

Once at the door, the innkeeper quietly unlocked it with a key and pushed the door open, allowing Tristana to enter. She peeked inside, seeing Gnar occupying one of the two beds, curled up in his own tail and breathing rhythmically in deep slumber. Silently musing at how someone can sleep so darn much (though she could for sure blame the awesome food coma she experienced as well), she softly approached the bedside which the young yordle slept. She kept note of the staff lying upon the lone table, it's light glowing dimly, and figured she shouldn't mess with something magical. She couldn't be entirely sure that any dark magic was still tainting anything that Veigar personally used.

Standing beside the bed, she reached out and placed her hand on Gnar's shoulder, gently clasping and giving the youngling a gentle shake. Gnar shivered and purred at Tristana's touch, uncurling his tail and opening his mouth, releasing a rather innocent yawn, slowly opening his large, charcoal brown eyes and gazing drowsily at the one who woke him.

"Ahhh….. ahanga... ?" the young Gnar muttered sleepily. He stretched out his furry arms and turned his attention to Tristana, recognizing her as someone who took care of him at times where no one else would. A childish smile lifted the corners of Gnar's mouth, as he gently clasped her arm and squeezed. "Twistanaaah", Gnar breathed out, still rather sleepy.

Tristana never understood how Gnar could just sleep off almost an entire day simply from a food coma, but that was a mystery that would need to be solved another time. "Hiya Gnar, little one… I needed to find you for something **really** important, ok?"

The youngling yordle only gazed at the gunner with soft eyes, watching her, pondering. It was quite interesting how similar it looked to the mage, for perhaps some of his qualities had rubbed off on Gnar. While Gnar could understand some of the language that the other yordles spoke, he could never really speak it himself, at least to a degree where others could understand him.

"It's about your friend", Tristana began, "who is probably in a lot of trouble right now, and everyone is going to be searching for him, including me. But I need to know something…"

She paused, noticing that Gnar's expression never changed. Gnar still held onto her arm, and she his shoulder, but his charcoal eyes never wavered, only blinked once or twice, then continued to gaze into her own. Either he was still extraordinarily sleepy, or Gnar was actually waiting for something.

Gnar was always the most puzzling specimen, or at least that's what Heimerdinger had said when Gnar first made his existence aware to the entirety of the yordle race. Primitive language. Ancient boomerang made out of bone. A skull atop Gnar's head which was assumed to be their ancestors remains. How had it happened? For a young yordle like Gnar to be frozen in true ice for heavens knows how long. Ever since he unfroze and discovered the yordle lands, the youngling had trouble being taken into Bandle City and its culture. He was always so curious for his own good, and would get himself into trouble if he wasn't supervised. Tristana herself had gone out of her way to help with that, and sheltered him in her own house when no one else would. She tried her very best to care for him, and perhaps that had indeed made a great impression in Gnar's kind heart, as he was always affectionate towards her.

However, she couldn't stop his wandering curiosity, and one day he had just… vanished. Tristana tried searching for him, but for days no one could find him. In her mind and heart, she was immensely distraught. The innocent little critter had left his own impression on her… and she couldn't bear for something to happen to him. He was still so young.

And suddenly, there he was. Right next to that strange yordle who called himself Logan. How had Gnar gotten into the forest? Did Veigar find him alone and… take him in?

But for what reason would Veigar have to do something like that? That wasn't like Veigar. Something had to have happened. Maybe the dark yordle intended something else when he took Gnar in, maybe he cast a spell on the prehistoric yordle and bewitched him…

Or… did something else happen entirely?

She wondered… did Gnar actually know something they never did this whole time?

Tristana had a hunch, and figured Gnar was too young to really know much of any other going-on's in the world. She took a deep breath, and uttered one word.

"Veigar."

As if right on queue, Gnar's eyes widened, and his smile somehow widened even further, his jubilation soaring through the roof as he excitedly squeezed Tristana's arms with more firmness.

"Veigaaaaa!"

As Gnar almost shouted Veigar's name, Tristana's suspicion was proven correct. The mage hadn't exactly hidden his real name from the youngling, although she was certain that Gnar hadn't known how infamous of a yordle he was in Bandle City. Yet, despite any of that, Gnar had grown very attached to Veigar, and she in particular had noticed it. Every time Gnar hugged Veigar. Every reaction Gnar had to Veigar's absence. Every reunion, however short their time apart was. Veigar obviously meant a great deal to Gnar, and that was something she couldn't ignore. Now her curiosity for why the yordle mage did what he did was immensely piquing her interest. Maybe this wasn't just some random dark magic that had been cast upon Gnar.

However, she still had to find him. She couldn't search with anyone else like Teemo, because he would be hunting Veigar like the mage was a criminal. She had to find him for an entirely different reason now.

Tristana herself now smiled at Gnar, and her sudden bright demeanor excited the youngling as she once again spoke.

"Well, why don't you help me with something for once, eh?"

* * *

Ba- _dump_.

Veigar wasn't really sure when he finally went to sleep. Or how he even slept in the first place. Last night was all but a dark blur in his mind now, as his mind felt increasingly weary from the torment he suffered through. It had been a few days since his night had an episode that bad. He really didn't even want to open his eyes. He couldn't feel any rays of sunshine peeking through the window curtains of the living room Rumble had left him to rest in. The rain outside had settled a little, but the sound of it battering against the house was still audible. While the rain was something the mage had welcomed in the past, it's constant and persistent presence lately had become more akin to a bad omen. Veigar wasn't superstitious, but as a mage skilled in many forms of magic, including dark magic, he wasn't entirely ignorant to the idea.

He sometimes toyed with the idea that maybe **he** was the cause of it…

Veigar shook off that thought, since it was kind of stretching really far in terms of theorizing. Maybe he really shouldn't dream so big.

The mage finally cracked open his eyes. The eyelids felt terribly heavy and dry, and even the dark room felt too bright for no reason at all. He tried shifting his arms, and found that it was indeed possible, albeit at the price of aching pain that made him wince. Everything just felt so crappy, and it was putting him in a sour mood.

After a few minutes of laying there grumpy from his helpless position, he heard some shuffling down the hallway as Rumble slowly made his way into the living room, rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning. They both made eye contact, causing Veigar to glance away, feeling strangely guilty all of a sudden. He didn't like this feeling of being in this position and forced to stay in someone else's home. He wasn't used to it at all. Well, Veigar wasn't used to any social things in general, so perhaps that wasn't anything new. Still, he hated it.

"You sure don't look so great", the mechanic muttered.

Veigar tried in vain to roll his eyes, but even that was quite an effort. Instead, he very delicately lifted his arm up and pointed to his throat and groaned, indicating that he was parched for water.

Rumble quickly understood and went to the kitchen, returning with a water bottle and sitting beside the couch so he could help Veigar drink, repeating the same thing he did last night.

Halfway through, Veigar pushed away the water bottle and gulped loudly, coughing a little bit as he said, "P-Please, help me sit up…"

Through some effort and more painful wincing, Rumble assisted the mage with his request, using a stack of pillows to comfortably allow Veigar to sit up a bit and rest his back upon. Everything still ached in Veigar's body, but his spine no longer felt painful enough to prevent his movement, which was a start.

Taking the water bottle into his own hands, Veigar awkwardly looked at Rumble and stammered, "How… how are you?"

Rumble seemed startled by the question, presumably not really expecting someone like Veigar to ask such a question.

"I'm… uh, alright, I suppose." Rumble figured it wasn't a good idea to ask how Veigar was doing.

After awkwardly sitting there beside the couch for a couple of minutes, Rumble decided it was best to make some breakfast for the two of them. He left Veigar's side and went into the kitchen, raiding his pantries for something to whip up.

After what Veigar described as "rather crappy Bandle cake-mix", it seemed the mage was finally starting to feel a little better, with some strength returning to his voice and posture.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Rumble started as he sat back down besides the couch, glancing curiously at the mage.

"You expect me to suddenly know what to do next?" Veigar snapped back rather briskly.

"Well I'm sorry Mr. grumpy pants! I'm sorry for suddenly giving you shelter when I'm under no obligation to do so! I'm sorry for finding your muddy-ass body laying there in the middle of the junkyard!" Rumble shot back in retaliation, groaning in exaggeration as he crossed his arms and looked away.

Veigar squinted at the mechanic, getting rather annoyed on the inside. But he knew Rumble was right. He wasn't really in the position to be aggressive against him.

"I'm sorry."

Rumble's ears perked as he glanced back at the yordle mage. Veigar's eyes had softened with a hint of weariness, gazing back into his own. The dark yordle sighed, and continued.

"It's difficult for me to figure out what the next move is. I'm still taking in what just happened. One second, I was in a room full of friends, and the next…"

Rumble's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me. Friends. I saw them all as friends. Is that so… difficult to understand?"

"No no, that's not what I meant", Rumble remarked. "I'm just wondering why does that suddenly matter to you?"

Veigar glared at Rumble, though not harshly as he did before.

"I mean", the mechanic scratched his head, "you haven't been seen for awhile. You've always been known to cause trouble and keep to yourself. So for you to show up out of nowhere and suddenly try to fit in… it's suspicious, yeah?"

"Yes, I suppose it is from your standpoint." Veigar sighed again. "A lot has happened. And a lot of it is a mess. I'm still trying to process it myself."

Rumble frowned as he studied the mage. Rumble hadn't exactly had many direct dealings with Veigar himself, and had only heard of his (somewhat) evil deeds committed in the past. Something that came to mind was how Veigar always kept to himself. Always isolated himself in solitude, cut off from most social contact. All yordles knew that isolation is one of the worst things a yordle can ever experience. The horror stories told from time to time about yordles lost from civilization. In fact, he was pretty sure that Veigar himself was one… but the story was usually made up from random theories, none of it ever had concrete facts. But no one could ever ask Veigar himself because of how elusive he was. Maybe…

"Hey Veigar?"

"Yes?" the mage asked curiously.

Before Rumble could press his question forward, both he and Veigar suddenly became alert with the sound of knocking at the front door. Rumble made a shushing motion with his hands and Veigar nodded.

The mechanic got up from his chair and stumbled quietly across the living room and down the hall towards the front door. Veigar was unfortunately left there in the dark living room by himself, unable to move much from his current position. He could only listen as Rumble answered the door. Veigar couldn't make out exact words, but he could tell that the mechanic was trying to not sound suspicious and failing at it quite miserably.

After a couple of minutes passed, Veigar jumped as he heard a loud slamming noise, some footsteps heading down the hall towards the room he resided in, and the panicked voice of Rumble.

"W-Wait, really, there's nothing- don't go in there!"

After pretty much barging in past a stuttering Rumble, there at the doorway to the living room stood Tristana, staring directly at Veigar with an unidentifiable emotion. And Veigar stared right back, not entirely sure if he was in danger or not. Regardless, either way he didn't exactly have much choice in the matter. He was pretty sure his magic wasn't quite returned to his fingertips yet, and his injuries still ached with every motion made.

Rumble appeared behind Tristana, smiling nervously at Veigar. "Hehe", he laughed nervously.

After a brief delay, Tristana suddenly wheeled around and delivered a rather efficient punch to Rumble's shoulder.

"OWWW!", Rumble yelped and stumbled back a few feet, gripping his bruised shoulder and whimpering.

"That's for lying to me, Rumblers", Tristana stated bluntly, before turning around again and facing Veigar, causing him to gulp nervously.

"Hello, Tristana."

It seemed Tristana wasn't exactly sure how to respond, and remained silent for a few seconds before finally responding with "Hey… Veigar."

"You here to take me in?"

"W-What?"

Veigar chuckled at the Bandle gunner. "I assume you were looking for me. As I'm sure everyone in Bandle must be looking for me."

Tristana hesitated. "Well… yes, I was looking for you."

"And?"

She sighed. "And… I'm not here to take you in."

"Why is that?" Veigar inquired.

"Because… I need answers."

The dark yordle laughed again, almost laughing hysterically until it suddenly devolved into a coughing fit, with him gripping his chest in sudden pain and agony, wincing. After several long seconds, the fit subsided, only now his arms flared up in pain from exerting any amount of effort on them.

Veigar startled again when Tristana pulled up a chair beside the couch he resided on and carefully put her hands on his.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Relax, I need to see your… injuries. Do you realize how far you fell out of that building?"

"Is that really important?" Veigar muttered annoyed.

"Shush, or you'll end up like Rumblers over there."

Veigar immediately shushed, glancing over at Rumble who was still rolling on the ground in the hallway holding his bruised shoulder and cursing under his breath.

Tristana tenderly held one of Veigar's bandaged arms in her hands, slowly undoing the poor handiwork of Rumble. The mage winced as his arms were freed of the bandages, revealing his rather messed up injuries. The Bandle gunner fiercely examined them, reaching into a pouch at her hip and taking out some military medical supplies, and began to tend to Veigar's wounds properly.

For some reason, Veigar suddenly became very shy as Tristana tended to him, having a hard time keeping himself composed and squirming every now and then, causing the corner of her mouth to lift up in a sly smile.

After she was done, Veigar felt much more comfortable than before, and let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Trist…"

"No problem, you floof", she said with a soft smile.

Rumble finally joined them, still muttering under his breath as he pulled up his own chair and sat beside Tristana, letting out a soft yelp when she glared at him again.

"I suppose the two of you need an answer, huh?" Veigar pressed.

Both Rumble and Tristana suddenly looked at the mage, giving him their full attention. He looked from one to the other, and sighed as they both nodded.

"Can you get me another bottle of water, then? This is going to take a while."

Ba- _dump_.

* * *

There's pretty much no one who really knows about Veigar's past. He's somewhat older than the other yordles, so his generation is one that is in the past. As a young yordle, Veigar was always a curious one. He was curious about the outside world, He was curious of the other lands that he only heard stories of. Freljord. Ionia. Piltover. Bilgewater. Demacia. Zaun. Noxus. Veigar heard stories of them all, but he wanted to see them. He wanted to see the world in all of its glory. And so, one day when Veigar became of age, one of his friends offered to take him along to work for a trade caravan. The caravan was supposed to do trade with all of the other city states outside of Bandle City, and would be a perfect opportunity for Veigar to achieve his dream. And thus, he accepted the offer.

Veigar felt the icy winds of the Freljord. Saw the wondrous temples of Ionia. Experienced the city of progress, Piltover. Smelled the musty ocean aroma of Bilgewater. Became mind boggled by the architecture of Demacia. All of these sights and experiences that he went through overwhelmed him and filled him with glee. His work on the trade caravan barely felt like work to him, and it most certainly appealed to him as a possible future career, for each visit felt like a dream. Hearing the stories of a place, but then actually **going** to that place? It was wild for him, as the everyday life of Bandle City didn't suit him.

Ba- _dump_.

Perhaps it was that very curiosity that got the better of him in the end. After some time, the trade caravan reluctantly did some trades with the shadier city states as well. Zaun was a dirty city, polluted by smog in the air from the numerous industrial activity that took place from within. It was a sharp contrast with Piltover, which was in a constant rivalry with the city of Zaun. Afterwards, they eventually saw their business drive them towards the city of Noxus.

Noxus was a risky destination for yordle trade caravans, as Noxians didn't exactly hold yordles in high esteem, and that had nothing to do with their short stature. Every trade dealing with Noxus was always shady, and that didn't change when the trade caravan encountered a shady individual who had numerous jewels and gems for sale at a very cheap price. It was almost as if the individual was eager to get rid of them, and fast. While Veigar's friend thought it best to not accept the jewelry from the stranger, the rest of the trade caravan couldn't resist the offer.

Sure enough, the trade caravan was stopped by a Noxian patrol, and their caravan was seized and searched. When the jewelry was found by the soldiers, the yordles were promptly arrested on the grounds of stealing them from Noxian nobility. It turned out that shady individual was getting rid of them for a reason. Despite all of their protests of innocence, the soldiers ignored their pleas and took them to the Noxian stockades.

What followed was only the darkest days of Veigar's existence. The Noxian jailers were merciless, and began to torture all of the yordles to make them confess to a crime they didn't commit. One by one, Veigar watched his friends get tortured and die in front of him. All of their cries and screams tearing apart his ear drums, the sights of blood ripping apart his soul. It seemed like they didn't want to kill Veigar first because he was the youngest, and thus probably the most vulnerable to giving up a confession. So they tortured him within an inch of his life, using methods that were pretty much considered war crimes everywhere else in Valoran. Eventually, Veigar watched them kill the friend who got him accepted into the trade caravan in the first place.

And then Veigar was alone. The jailers turned on him. First, they cracked his body. When that broke, they turned to his mind. When his mind finally shattered, they turned to his soul. After what seemed like months of thrashing and burning and maiming his fragile body, they tossed him away into the deepest holes of the Noxian dungeons. And they just left him there, possibly even forgetting about him. No jailers came to give him food. Not even a drop of water. Not even a source of light. It was just Veigar, left alone and isolated in the dark, with nothing but his tortured body, his broken soul, and his dark thoughts.

Not even Veigar knows how he survived the _years_ of isolation, for it was many years that passed when he finally found a way to escape the Noxian dungeons. As he crawled away, a shattered and lonely yordle with nowhere left to go in the world, it was a wonder how Veigar didn't question his very existence. Perhaps he still had a will to live, to inflict some sort of pain on the world for forgetting him in the depths of a Noxian stockade. He had no sort of sane thought anymore. Isolation does that to a yordle. Yordles are the sort of creature that needs, **craves** companionship. The worst thing you can ever do to a yordle is isolate them from others for an extended period of time.

It was for that reason that Veigar bordered on the limbo of insanity. His darkness came forward and manifested itself as his weapon, and nearly consumed his soul.

Ba- _dump._

But the one thing that no one ever knew…?

That not even Veigar himself knew?

Somewhere in his dark and scarred body of his, lay a broken heart, which still beat faintly.

Ba- _dump_.

Shattered into a million pieces, yes.

Drawn to the very depths of limbo, yes.

But it still beat.

… Ba- _dump_.

* * *

 **A/N: Miss me?**


End file.
